


Cut Through the Heart

by Windian



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Angst, Canon Universe, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Incest Guilt: the fanfiction, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Sibling Incest, Slow Burn, Snow Queen lore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 18:46:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 86,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Windian/pseuds/Windian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arendelle might have been thawed, but Elsa's old anxieties still fester. And with feelings for her sister that threaten to bloom into full-blown incest, she pushes Anna away once more, unwittingly walking into the trap of someone who would use Elsa's powers for their own. Things aren't always as they appear. The heart is a maze not all can escape from.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. loving you is in my blood

In the ballroom, the last garlands were hoisted into place. The room was being transformed: ropes of frost-coated ivy threaded with snowdrops criss-crossed the walls, wicker weave baskets packed full of christmas roses perched on every table. An immaculate candelabra of ice crystals hung from the ceiling and on the buffet table, where the staff stood straightening the tablecloth, stood an incredible ice swan. It was a love song, to that breaking season of dark evenings and crisp cold air in your throat.

There wasn’t much time left for preparations. In just a few days time Arendelle would hold the winter ball, and begin the annual fortnight-long winter pageant.

Queen Elsa, knee deep in preparations, tried to stave off the dread and focus only on guest lists, budgets, caterers.

Stood with the arch chancellor, observing the preparations, Gerda approached. In her hands were a ring of napkin samples.

“Your Majesty,” she said, with a little familiar curtsy. “What do you reckon? Ice blue looks pretty nice. Or would you prefer the white?”

“What do you think Gerda?” Elsa said. She felt tired. She ran her hand up to her braid of ice-blond hair.

“The blue, maybe. Too much white is too forbidding, don’t you think?” said Gerda.

“I think you’re right. We’ll go with that.”

“How many do you want made, ma’am?”

She turned to the Franz, the arch chancellor. He was a squat friendly man who looked somewhat squished, as though a giant had picked him up between his hands and squeezed him too hard. A friend of Elsa and Anna’s father, he’d ruled as regent until Elsa came of age. Now, he advised her.

The arch chancellor pulled out a densely packed notebook full of scribbles and flipped through it until he found the right figure.

“We’ve two hundred and two confirmed coming. Though we’re still awaiting reply from the Spring City and Corona,” he said.

“Have two hundred and fifty made then, Gerda, just in case,” said Elsa.

“Very good your Majesty.” Gerda dipped in another curtsy, and disappeared with the samples.

When she was gone, Elsa said, “I really didn’t expect the number of replies we’ve had. I’m starting to worry we won’t have room for all the guests.”

“Already taken into consideration. I’ve spoken to a number of the innkeepers and come to an arrangement.”

Elsa smiled at him gratefully. “I don’t know how I’d do all this without your help, Franz,” she said. “I’d no idea of the work that goes into having a ball. Or that I’d have to choose the colour of the napkins!” she laughed.

“This is your first major social event, your Majesty. It’s bound to be puzzling at first. You’ll get the hang of it. But you know… you don’t really have to choose the napkin colours. I’ve told you already: leave that to the staff. You work too hard.”

Instinctively, she shook her head. If she didn’t think about napkins, her mind would find something worse to focus on instead.

Franz put a comforting hand on Elsa’s shoulder. After these few months, it was still a surprising feeling: all the handshakes and easy touches of normal human contact.

“You look tired, Elsa. Why don’t you go get some rest? I’ll finish up here.”

“I’m really fine—” she began to protest.

“You’re really not. Gerda tells me you haven’t been sleeping. The candle’s been burning in your room all night.” Franz fixed her in the eye, with a raised knowing eyebrow.

Elsa replied with a purse of her lips. Gerda. Of course. In a castle this small, you really couldn’t get away with anything.

“I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again. If you have any concerns you wish to speak to me about, my shoulder is always—”

“Franz…”

“—Because if it’s about the suitors and the Winter King, I should say your father always regarded me as quite the expert on—”

“Franz.” Elsa stopped him, with a smile. “Thank you.”

The arch chancellor stopped. He chuckled. “Alright, Elsa. Just let me know if you change your mind.”

What Franz spoke of was an Arendelle tradition dating back hundreds of years. This was how it went: that any unwed monarch would, on the final night of the Winter Pageant, choose from their suitors a partner. For Elsa, that would mean she would spend the Pageant being wooed by the visiting suitors, and choose from them her Winter King. Over a dozen husbands and brides had been found this way. Her history books from her years with tutors told her that it was a remnant, left over from when several lines died out from stubborn monarchs who refused to marry and breed an heir.

Or perhaps more simply, it owed to her people’s line of thinking: a queen must have a king.

She was no fool. On the day of her coronation she knew this day would come. However, on the day of her coronation, she’d thought she would be lucky to get through it without being branded a witch.

There were still some that thought that much. Which was partly why they were going to this trouble. There was so much riding on this pageant: not just finding Elsa a husband, but proving to the wary surrounding nations she was not the maleficent snow queen the whispers in the shadows told of.

Her fingers tightened against her palms, threatening to frost her fingernails. She tried to relax. After all, no one told her being queen was going to be easy.

“Have you seen Anna?” she asked Franz. “I haven’t seen her today.”

“I believe I saw her with our new royal ice harvester this morning,” Franz said, a twinkle in his eye. “They were out in the courtyard. Princess Anna was being herself.”

Kristoff. Of course. The boy might has well move in, Elsa thought, with the amount of time he spent at the castle. Anna was always dragging him around, and with what Franz said no doubt they’d been thundering down into the fjord on her bike for two again. The two of them argued like an old couple that’d been together for decades.

They really were a perfect match.

“Did you want her for something?” Franz asked.

“No… it’s fine,” said Elsa.

A voice rent through the air: “Help! Elsa!”

It was Anna.

“Anna!” Elsa gasped. No second thought, she turned and fled the ballroom, following her sister’s voice. Down the hallway. Down the stairs.

“Elsa!”

Fear ripped through her, sharp as shards of ice. She skid round the corner, and came face to face with her sister in front of the trophy cabinet, pinned by down a giant brown bear.

Laila, one of the maids, stood at the other end of the corridor, looking like she was about to scream.

And understanding clicked into place.

“It’s not real,” she called to Laila. “It’s stuffed!”

The bear, stuffed and dead since their great-great-grandfather famously shot it, had toppled from its raised alcove and effectively trapped Anna underneath, its muzzle inches from her face. Its feet, however, still rested on the ledge, which had stopped her being squished completely.

Raising the hem of her dress, Elsa knelt by her sister’s side. “Are you okay?” she said.

“I’m alright,” said Anna, freckled cheeks pink with embarrassment. “Just stuck.”

“What happened?” she asked.

“I was—” she shifted, uncomfortably under the bear, “I was trying to rig up the decorations by myself… but somehow I managed to knock Andre down.”

“Andre, ma’am?” inquired Laila.

“The bear,” explained Elsa, as she gazed won at the big brute. In their games as children, he’d been known as Andre the Handsome.

“Anna!” The arch chancellor came puffing round the corner, Kai on his heels. Looks of panic on their faces.

“She’s not hurt,” said Elsa. “We just need to get this off her.”

Some of the strong boys were called from the stables, but despite their efforts, the bear wouldn’t budge.

“Andre, we need to put you on a diet,” said Anna. She was getting progressively pinker and gigglier by the minute.

“Princess Anna, this is no laughing matter,” Gerda scolded her. “I don’t know how we’re going to get you out.”

“It’s alright,” said the arch chancellor. “What we’ll just have to do is find the groundsman. We’ll saw the bear up to get you out.”

“You can’t do that,” Anna exclaimed. “Not to Andre!”

“Dear girl, I don’t see what else we can do,” the arch chancellor said, with patience.

“I do,” said Anna. She twisted to look at Elsa. “Use your magic,” she said.

All eyes turned to her. Elsa noticed now, the large crowd that had assembled.

“I don’t know, Anna…” she said, biting her lip. “Maybe we ought to wait for the groundsman…”

Anna addressed Elsa unspoken fear: “You won’t hurt me. I know you won’t.”

“Anna, I…”

The fear bit hard. One wrong move and the bear could topple and squash Anna. It wasn’t a matter of being unable to do it. She knew she could. It was as the trolls told her, years ago, when she was too young, and afraid to understand. Fear was her enemy. She had perfect control over her magic, except when she was nervous or afraid. Right now, she was both.

Anna’s eyes sought out hers.

“You can do it. I know you can.”

There was quiet in the corridor as Elsa stood, straightening her gown out in front of her.

“Okay,” she said.

Elsa concentrated. She felt the familiar warm tingle of her magic in her fingertips. Felt it spread up her fingers to her hands: unlike what most people thought, it was not cold. All encompassing, the magic filled her whole body.

The ground began to tremble. And several pillars of ice exploded from the marble floor. Several of the staff jumped back, as it pushed the bear up off Anna and with a crash rolled him onto the floor on the other side. Anna, safe between the pillars, wriggled out and collapsed in relief. Elsa ran to her.

She realised the staff and on-lookers were cheering.

Suddenly, she was knocked into a rough embrace. Anna squeezed the life out of her. Elsa squeezed her back.

Her heart was in her mouth.

“Hey, Elsa… Elsa, why are you crying?”

They sparkled in the corners of her eyes: painfully hard crystalline tears.

“It’s just… if anything happened to you, I would… I…”

She couldn’t even find the words.

***

Night.

Elsa stood by her window, looking out at the sky: black velvet, studded with diamonds. Hung like a lamp above the fjord was a pale half moon.

Several raps at the door, in quick succession.

“Elsa?”

“Come in Anna,” she said.

Anna sidled into the room. She wore her nightdress, and her hair fell loose in auburn waves around her shoulders. She looked around the room, curiously. Even after all this time, Elsa thought, she still seemed a little uncomfortable here, uncertain.

“Elsa?” she asked.

“I’m here,” said Elsa.

Anna’s eyes sought her out in the darkness and she exclaimed, “Oh!” She laughed to herself. “It was so dark in here, I thought you’d gone to bed already.”

“I’m about to,” said Elsa.

She crossed to the bed and climbed in. She pulled back a corner of the duvet for Anna. An unspoken invitation. Silently, Anna took it. The bed sagged, the sheets rustled, and her sister cuddled up next to her. She was soft and warm.

Elsa wasn’t sure how it started. Though she never invited her, and Anna never asked, several times a week there’d be a knock on the door, and Anna would crawl in next to her. But she wouldn’t change it: nothing made her happier than falling asleep with her sister’s warmth by her side.

“Tired from your wrestling match with Andre?” Elsa said, a quiet whisper near her ear.

“Ex-hausted,” sing-song, Anna sung.

There was quiet. Only the murmur of moonlight.

“I know why you did what you did earlier,” Elsa said finally.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’ve always hated that ugly bear,” said Elsa. “You wanted me to use my magic so everyone would see its not dangerous.”

The creak of sheets. Anna rolled round to face her sister. “I wanted you to see, too.”

Elsa said nothing.

“You treat me like I’m so fragile lately. You need to have more confidence in yourself.”

Anna’s hand found hers. It was so warm.

“You only get like this when you’re worrying. The winter ball, right?”

“Maybe a little…”

“A little?”

The clouds shifted, the pale moonlight extinguished. In the darkness, she could only see the lights of Anna’s eyes.

“Okay. A lot,” she sighed. “I just don’t understand… how I’m supposed to find someone to spend a lifetime with, in just two weeks.”

Anna gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry. You’re just bound to meet someone. Half the princes in the world sound like they’re coming.”

It was strange. But somehow, in the dark, Elsa could always be a little more honest.

“But that’s the thing—- I… I don’t even know if I want to meet someone. I just can’t imagine it. Having a husband, a family… it’s always sounded to me like something from someone else’s life. Not meant for me.”

She heard the ridiculousness in the words as soon as they left her mouth. She was a queen. Having a husband and children was exactly what she was meant for.

“You only think that way because you haven’t met the right person yet,” said Anna. Elsa made a noise.

She was well-meaning, but she didn’t understand at all.

Anna snuggled up against her, wrapping a hand around her waist. Elsa felt the whole length of her, her warmth.

There just wasn’t room left in her heart for anybody else. Because, for as long as she could remember, there was only one person she could love.

Anna’s snuffly sleep breathing. Elsa thought, _Something changed when I locked myself away. Mama and Papa, I know they were trying to help, but…_

She gazed at Anna’s sleeping face, her adorable freckles. A strand of her messy hair fell across her face. Elsa brushed it back behind her ear. A treasure, just to be able to touch her like this.

_At first I couldn’t put a name to my feelings. And then, I thought it was because we’d been apart so long. I asked about you every day. When I saw you at dinner, and when I bumped into you in the library and made myself turn back, Anna, my heart ached. I never told Mama or Papa, or anyone. It was just one more secret to keep._

_And now, you’ve come back to me. And I’m still having to hide. It hurts more than ever._

And yet, it would be too painful to push her away again. There was nothing she could do. _Loving you is in my blood._

**To be continued.**


	2. unearthing you

“Kristoff! Quick! You’re going to miss it,” Anna called, her voice carrying down the stone tower stairs. A long groan echoed back.

Anna rushed to the window and flung it open wide. She leant out, half out the window, shielding her eyes from the sun. This was the tallest tower in the castle, and the perfect place to look out over the fjord.

“Hurry!” she called over her shoulder, to where Kristoff emerged, breathing hard.

“But…- I don’t-… even care-… about some stupid ships,” he complained.

“Kristoff!” she admonished him. “They’re not some stupid ships. It’s Queen Matilda’s flagship, the _Briar Rose_.”

Dimly, she heard Kristoff making some quip about rich people having too much money, but Anna wasn’t listening. White sails emerged over the cliffs, and the convoy emerged.

“Wow! Look at that.”

There was the _Briar Rose_ , just like she’d seen in her history books, three hundred years old with gleaming waxed masts and mermaid brow. Following behind was her entourage, the three ships of her three sons. Behind, in convoy were the party from Laputa and the ship bringing the princes of Appleshore.

“A-mazing,” whistled Anna.

Kristoff slouched up to her side. “So why do they need _four_ ships?” he asked, deadpan.

Anna replied with a playful shove of her shoulder.

Usually, this was the cue for a shove war, of which many a battle had been staged between the couple.

Instead, Kristoff didn’t flinch. Anna glanced up at him from under her eyelashes. He gazed out at the fjord, scratching a scab on his chin.

So. He was still mad at her.

Anna reached up and touched one of her braids, playing with it absently.

“You see that ship there?” she pointed out to a boat with a shimmering silver hull.

“Hmm?”

“They’re from the Shimmering Islands. Do you know why it’s called that?” She left no space for Kristoff to answer. She simply rolled on, picking up momentum as she went. “I learnt about it from my tutor years ago. The islands don’t shimmer. But everyone there wears these plates of polished metal, hammered so thin they’re lightweight. And the explorer that first made contact with them looked out with his binocular from the the ship, and the beach itself seemed to shimmer. Because lots of people were standing out on the beach to see the ship, see. I think that’s really neat— I’d love to go and visit one day. Though I’d love to see the Spring City, too, and— and…”

She came to a sudden stop, like a locomotion engine steaming up to the platform. “I’m rambling, aren’t I?” she said.

Elbows perched on the windowsill, Kristoff looked at her with eyebrows raised in amusement. “Yeah, you are,” he said.

That was Kristoff for you. Honest to a fault. Unsurprising, considering his family were rocks and his best friend a reindeer. But his honesty was one of the things Anna liked best about him.

Her apology was a sneeze stuck in her throat. _I’ll just say sorry, right now,_ she thought. _I’ll say sorry and we’ll go back to the way we were before._

Apologies had always come easily to Anna. When she broke the suit of the armour at the bottom of the stairs she apologised, and eventually Kai would get it back together again, and everything would be fixed. And yet, she found herself in an entirely new situation: where her apology wouldn’t mean anything, because this was a situation that couldn’t be fixed.

So she swallowed the apology down, even though it left a strange feeling in her throat.

“I think…” she said, “I should go see Elsa. She’s probably finished her meeting now. I said I’d go help her practice for the ball.”

“Practice?”

“Dancing.” She would have taken Kristoff’s hand and swung him round at this, once.

“You’re teaching her?”

“I’m assisting. My old dance tutor is teaching her. To be honest, I didn’t know the old barnacle was still alive. But he’s still hanging on in to the hull.”

“Right,” said Kristoff.

An awkward silence stretched between them. Neither were sure what to do with it.

“I guess I’ll see you at the ball tomorrow night, then,” said Kristoff at last.

“Yes,” said Anna, grateful. Hesitant, and then, determined, she approached him to offer a goodbye kiss.

And Kristoff turned away, pain etched between his eyebrows. He said, “There’s no point, Anna. Not if you don’t mean it.”

In a sudden movement, he stepped away, clumping down the stairs.

Anna stared after him, clutching tightly hold of her braid.

“It’s not like I don’t mean it…” she said, but her words vanished with the breeze.

***

It wasn’t even lunch time, and Elsa felt exhausted.

Wandering down the corridor, she rubbed at her eyes. The whole morning had been an endless parade of audiences with princes, princesses, dukes, duchesses, lords, ladies and noblefolk.

She’d been getting better at it, but still, after a lifetime locked away in her bedroom with only her own loneliness for company, dealing with people wasn’t easy for Elsa.

At least the council meeting let it early. Scheduled next was her dancing lesson, which made her apprehensive. But at least Anna would be there. She brightened at that.

The door to the ballroom was left ajar. She was early, and didn’t expect Anna to have arrived yet. Her sister was supposed to be on a date with Kristoff this morning— he was one of the few reasons she’d get up before eleven.

So she was more than surprised when she spotted Anna sat in the alcove under Edward the conqueror, her face pressed to her dress.

“Anna?”

Her sister started up. “E-Elsa?”

Elsa paused, and took a step forward. “What’s wrong?”

Her sister’s usual nervous tic, Anna fingered the ends of her hair.

“It’s dumb,” she said.

“Tell me anyway.” Elsa sat beside her in the alcove.

“You’re going to laugh at me…”

“I won’t.”

Anna dropped her hands from her braids. “It’s… it’s Kristoff. We had an argument.”

“But the two of you always argue…”

“Yeah, but just for fun! This…. well, it’s different. We—”

“Your Majesties?”

Elsa looked up. It was the dance instructor, old Johan, and Jon, his long suffering grandson: a talented pianist.

_Talk about bad timing,_ she thought.

“Excellent. You’re both here. Princess Anna, colour me impressed. You’re actually punctual for once.” Beside her, Anna made a noise. “Are you ready to begin?”

“Wouldn’t dream of keeping you waiting,” said Anna, standing. To Elsa she said, “Can… we talk later?”

“Of course.”

As Anna swayed towards the instructor, Elsa gazed at her retreating back in concern.

“Now, my Queen… if you could please join myself and Princess Anna by the piano… I thought we would start today with an easy walz,” said the instructor.

The lesson began.

Anna and Johan took turns as her partner, until he realised she was more comfortable and natural with Anna, and let her take over. Instead, he figeted and prodded her when her posture slipped, harassing Anna about all the countless things she’d forgotten since he was her tutor.

Though Elsa had zero interest in learning to dance, as she picked up the steps she found herself enjoying herself more and more. She put this completely down to her partner. Her little sister had been born with the ability to make almost anything fun. When she made a mistake or stood or Anna’s foot, they just ended up laughing together.

When Johan became inpatient about their antics and snapped, the Queen and Princess simply exploded into giggles.

Johan snapped his sheet music in two. “I don’t think you need me here at all, Majesty and Majesty,” he said, and stormed off in a huff.

“Good. The old barnacle is gone,” laughed Anna. Even Jon chuckled from his seat in front of the piano. “Now we can practice properly.”

Elsa thought, it was like when they were children again, playing and causing trouble before their parents woke. She’d recaptured that old feeling.

Though it’d never been like this before. Spinning in Anna’s arms, Elsa’s chest felt warm. It glowed. Like there was something inside her— a lantern— throwing out light. It illuminated her from every pore. How did no one else notice such light?

She spoke words she’d ordinarily keep locked in her heart: “I wish I didn’t have to get married. That it could be just you and me like this forever.”

She expected Anna to tell her she was wrong; she’d meet Mr Right, find her Prince Charming, ect ect. But to her surprise, Anna just smiled.

“That would be lovely, wouldn’t it?”

***

“Elsa? Elsa? _Elsa_?”

Anna _hrmmm’_ d. Her raps on the bedroom door had received no response. She leant down, peering through Elsa’s keyhole, but it was bunged up. Vaguely, she remembered trying to shove something through to Elsa years ago and getting it jammed.

By the time Kai came up the stairs, Anna was lying on the floor like a draft stopper, peering through the crack under Elsa’s door.

“Ma’am. Ahem.”

Anna sat up so quickly she cracked her head on the door handle.

“Ouch, ouch, ouch!” A hand went to her scalp. “Kai,” she said.

“Are you alright Princess Anna?” said Kai. An equal amount of amusement as concern in his voice. One of the longest standing members of staff, he was more than used to Anna’s accidents. He’d cleaned up the messes left from them more than once.

“Ah. Yes. I’m— ouch— fine. By the way… Kai, could you get me a coat hanger?” Anna gave him her best endearing eyes.

“A coat hanger.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah. I want to get this paper out of the keyhole. So I can see if Elsa’s awake.”

“…Wouldn’t it be easier just go in quietly, Ma’am?”

Anna blinked. “Oh. Right. Good idea Kai.”

She stood, rubbing her sore head. Kai spoke, still the tone of amusement: “By the way, the Queen left a message for you. She said if you needed to talk to her, you should feel free to wake her up. She’s had a long day meeting the dignitaries, but—”

Before Kai could finish, however, Anna was gone, Elsa’s door clicking behind her.

Kai sighed a fond sigh, and continued on his rounds.

Elsa’s candle was guttering. A tiny pale flame, it danced, dying, at the bottom of the saucer.

In her bed, Elsa curled on her side, sleeping soundlessly. Her loose french braid laid across her pillow.

Anna moved towards her quietly, trying not to knock anything over. She thought how beautiful her sister looked. Even in her sleep, Elsa possessed more charm and grace than Anna would ever have in her life.

It shamed her to admit she’d been jealous of her once. The thought appalled her now, especially since she’d leant what Elsa had been through for her sake.

_When you started ignoring me, I thought it was because you hated me,_ she mused. _Because you thought you were better than me. And Father spent so much time with you alone… I got jealous. I thought I hated you, too. I had no idea…_

On Elsa’s desk, a glint caught her eye. A letter opener. She took it, and set to work on easing the screwed up knot of paper from the doorknob. It didn’t take her long before it plopped out onto the carpet.

Curiously, Anna unscrewed it. It was a note, written in a childish hand in blue crayon.

_Deer Elsa,_

_Plese be my frend agen. Plese pick yes or no_

_yes                                             No_

_if no plese rite wy._

And underneath there were several untidy lines, enough for Elsa to have written a small essay.

Anna’s heart constricted. She remembered writing this. She’d even chosen the blue crayon because it was Elsa’s favourite colour to colour in. She’d done a dozen of notes like this, none of which received any response.

It’d survived so long, Anna couldn’t bear to throw it away. Instead, she replaced the letter opener on the desk, and opened the draw underneath.

Inside, in the dim light of the dying candle, Anna saw a slice of blue crayon, poking out from underneath a pile of official looking letters.

She thought, _There’s no way._

Peering back at Elsa, still sleeping, she pulled the paper out from underneath. There was a whole stack of them. Her letters.

They were all there.

On the top was the letter she’d written on a sheet of her father’s stationary with the royal letterhead, stolen from his study.

_Deer princess Elsa_

_Your presents is formale recested to play with anna on her bicecle._

_Sincerle, anna._

_ps. I will giv you chocolate._

When this approach hadn’t worked, she’d even sent a letter with a piece of now grey looking chocolate taped to it. Shockingly, even this hadn’t received a response.

And yet, Elsa had kept them all. Even the letter with the mouldy chocolate.

The letters in her hands, Anna slipped down to the carpet, back against the knobbly desk. Even after all this time, how little she’d known about her sister.

After the sadness, and after the resentment, Elsa had become a ghost. When their parents died, Elsa stopped leaving her room. But even before that, her sister had stopped being a sister; she was the creak upstairs, the flash of blond hair, the murmur from another room.

Anna stood, and tucked her letters away back in Elsa’s drawer. She was unearthing something, an important treasure she’d buried and forgotten a long time ago.

Sitting on the bed by Elsa’s side, she decided she wouldn’t wake her. There would be other times they could talk.

The candle guttered, and went out.

Anna touched Elsa’s braid, to make sure she was real.

**To be continued.**


	3. something they've never seen before

The servants rolled open the doors. Anna, on Elsa’s arm, goggled at the transformation of the ballroom. It looked even better than yesterday. Packed with people, on the buffet tables stood life-sized ice sculptures; a bear, a swan, a dancer.

Something was falling from the ceiling. Anna raised her hand, and stared up in bewilderment. She gasped. Snow was falling, but evaporating before it could touch her hand.

“How did you even have time for all this?” she asked, agog. Elsa replied with a simple smile. She looked, Anna thought, weary. She was the picture of elegance she always was in one of her own own icy dress creations, hair braided and twisted into a sparkling net. Her posture, perfect. Epitome of composure. But, Anna saw the bags she was carrying beneath her eyes.

“When you don’t have time, you make some,” she said.

Anna gazed at her sister in admiration. Though, she felt a twang of guilt too. Sure, she had duties too, but most of the time she just messed around. Her attention slipped easily. She wished she could be as hard-working as Elsa.

Eyeing at the bags beneath her sister’s eyes she thought, I’m going to have to sleep with her more often. I bet she stays up working all night when I’m not there.

Elsa, who noticed Anna’s intent stare looked at her, raising a poised eyebrow.

Anna turned pink. “Sorry,” she coughed.

“Why?”

Why? Shyly, Anna smiled at her. Why indeed?

The trumpets blared. Kai announced, “Queen Elsa of Arendelle. Her sister, Princess Anna of Arendelle.”

The whole room seemed to turn and stare. A few people were looking at her, but almost every eye was glued to her sister.

From their perspective, she saw why. In her crystalline dress, she shined. She was something they’d never seen before. She held her head, high, powers on show for all to see; proudly. Her dress she wore tight with a slit almost to her thigh; defiantly. She looked mysterious, dangerous, and utterly desirable.

If Anna was eating a sandwich, she would have choked on it.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please, let me officially welcome you to Arendelle,” Elsa said, voice carrying across the room, “for our annual Winter Paegent. I hope that—”

And Anna stared out into the crowd with abrupt hostility. Men, women and children, of all different nationalities, in different dress. But, mostly men, here to win her sister’s hand.

None of them are good enough for her, she thought, with sudden violence.

Her plan of action now fell neatly into place. It was her duty, as a sister, to vet these dopey dukes and princes. Her experience with a certain prince left her with a lingering distrust for their kind. But she decided: there wouldn’t be another Prince Hans. She was going to find Elsa the creme de la creme of husbands.

“——So please enjoy your time here, and take in everything Arendelle has to offer,” Elsa finished. Warm applause.

Though for some reason, Anna felt more than one person staring at her. Her eyes flicked to the mirrored wall, and she caught sight of herself: gripping hold of Elsa’s arm in a vice grip and grinning like an idiot.

“Anna, are you feeling okay?”

When Elsa turned to her, Anna was as pink as a grapefruit.

Staring at her shoelaces, she mumbled something that sounded a lot like, “Mimble-wimble.”

*

“Excuse me— pardon me— coming thro—ough—” Anna squeezed through the crowd, pushing through to where she thought she’d spotted Kristoff’s familiar mane of blond hair. “Scuz me—”

The crowd moved; finally, she saw him.

He was hanging around by the punch table in a tux, looking awkward without Sven by his side. She eyed the tux; when it came down to it, he scrubbed up pretty good.

“Kristoff!” she called, pushing in between two rather ample gentlemen.

“Anna,” he said, in relief. He barely had time to put the punch glass down before Anna grabbed him by the hand and whisked him off.

“Anna—” he said, “where—” he narrowly avoided slamming into the duchess of Pembury, —“are we going?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Oh—” he knocked into the buffet table, the ice sculpture wobbling. “Question still stands. Where are we going?”

“We need to talk in private. These people won’t leave me alone otherwise.” She’d been accosted by three dukes and a duchess already just trying to find Kristoff.

She pulled him out into the corridor and into a tiny bathroom, no bigger than a closet, pulling the door up behind her.

Kristoff looked around the darkness. “Well, this is cosy,” he said.

The words were ready to rush from her mouth when suddenly, they vanished from her mouth. The small bathroom meant she and Kristoff were stood almost close enough to touch. Despite that, there was still so much she couldn’t say to him.

Avoiding him hadn’t helped. Only made things stranger.

“Um…”

“You said you wanted to talk to me. In private,” Kristoff prompted. He looked amused, but in his eyes she could see that lingering sadness.

I’m sorry Kristoff, she thought. I still can’t do this. I’m not ready.

Instead, she decided: tonight is about Elsa. I have to help her.

“My sister has to choose a suitor in a fortnight’s time,” said Anna.

“Yeah, I heard,” Kristoff said, with a wry smile.

“Right. But the thing is, Elsa’s no good with men. I tried to ask her about what her type was the other day and she wouldn’t give me a straight answer.”

“I’m not sure where you’re going with this.”

“So we need to help her, Kristoff! We need to find someone who will be absolutely perfect for her. She acts like she’s not interested in guys… but I just know Mr Right is out there for her.”

Kristoff didn’t look terribly convinced about this.

“Plus, I’m worried about some slimy prince marrying her just for the throne,” she added.

“Fair point.”

Her brows furrowed. Thinking about Hans always got her angry. Ooh, it made her so furious remembering what he’d tried to do!

“You’ve got your mad face on again Anna,” said Kristoff.

“Yeah well, you know what, thinking about these guys makes me mad. What do they think princesses and queens are, meal tickets? It makes me crazy!”

“I noticed.”

Anna glared at him.

When the door clicked open and light filtered into the pitch black bathroom. Startled, Anna whirled round to see a man she’d never met before.

You couldn’t escape from these guys anywhere!

“Princess Anna, charmed to meet you. My name is Gerald, lord of Applemore.” Anna nodded decisively at Kristoff. He put his head in his hand and groaned. Gerald continued, “I wondered if you could introduce me to—”

Before he could take another word, however, Anna grabbed him by his frilly cravat and pulled him inside.

“First things first…” Anna took a deep breath. The man looked terrified. Kristoff sighed and pushed the door shut.

“Where are you from? How many brothers do you have? Do you like sandwiches? What’s your shoe size? What are you intentions towards my sister?!”

Kristoff put his hands in his pockets and lent back. After six months with Anna, he’d learnt to just roll with it.

***

The ball was quickly becoming a blur.

Elsa had shook hands with what felt like the entire room. She’d met princes and princesses, a couple of queens, a score of dukes, a whole contingency of lords and more counts than she could count. All the while trying to remember names, titles and the correct amount of pomp they afforded their owners. And trying not to freeze things, of course.

The truth was, in large social events like that, Elsa couldn’t relax. Planning and having control of the details helped, but she could never swallow down the nervousness in her throat, or push away the part of her that just wanted to run away to a quiet room.

Plus, she swore that was the fourth time Lord Ainsbury had introduced himself and shook her hand.

When Duke Harrington, their nearest trade partner, asked for her hand to dance, her shoulders felt so still she could barely move them. Until Harrington pointed out, “Queen Elsa… um…” she realised she’d iced over her shawl.

“Oh.”

He put his hand on her waist, and the musicians started the next song.

She wished Anna was here. She wished the rules were different. If she could only dance with her, she knew she wouldn’t feel half as nervous. Why couldn’t two women dance together anyway?

She went around the room, partner to partner. As soon as one dance ended she found herself surrounded by suitors, asking for the next.

Where was Anna? she thought.

Relief, as she found herself dancing with Franz, and she didn’t have to keep asking after relatives and cousins.

“How are you enjoying the evening your Majesty?” he asked.

She smiled. “It’s a little overwhelming.”

“Have you noticed anyone in particular yet?” he asked, a twinkle in his eye.

“Well, Lord Perriweather shook my hand so enthusiastically I thought it was going to fall off. And the duke of Lambridge gave me a jar full of jellied eels.”

“What a charmer,” Franz said, laughing. “Still, plenty of time. I take it you’ve considered suitable political alliances already.”

She nodded. “I wrote down some names as soon as the guest list was decided.”

“And?”

“Any of the eastern lords apart from Baimbride. The King of Wessex would be a risky match, but we’d more than double our treasury.”

“Though… as you are aware, his five infamous sons are not fond of stepmothers.”

“Indeed.” If the rumours were true, the last didn’t manage a month.

“By the way,” she said, “is Anna still here? I haven’t seen her in what? Almost an hour?”

“I have to admit my concerns as well. Kai told me he saw her vanish into the bathroom down the corridor with young Kristoff—”

“Oh. Oh. Well…”

“—And Prince Edward as well.”

“…Huh?”

Though they still had half a dance to go, Elsa dropped Franz’s hand and made her way through the crowd. When people tried to hail her she shook her head. “I’m sorry, not now,” she said.

Outside the bathroom, she paused. She heard Anna’s voice quite clearly.

_Just what is she doing…?_

“—And so you have no interest in her wealth whatsoever?”

“No- no, Princess Anna. I assure you, I wish to wed your sister because… because I have heard of her renowned beauty,” the prince stumbled.

“So you just want to marry her for her looks, that what you’re saying?”

“Pl-please, Princess Anna, I—”

Elsa pulled open the door. Three heads looked up. Prince Edward was sat, cowering, on the toilet. Anna, her face lit ominously with a candle she held under her chin, was in full interrogation mode.

“ANNA!”

_To be continued._


	4. all I can do is hurt you

"Anna, what on earth were you thinking?"

Inside, the party was starting to quiet down. On the balcony overlooking the gardens, Elsa stared down her sister. Anna hung her head.

"Do you know how long it's taken me to find all the men you manhandled and apologise?" Elsa said, hands on her icy hips. "You need to think about Arendelle's reputation. You kidnapped a prince, for god's sake."

This wasn't what she needed. A long stressful evening strengthening diplomatic relations and there was her sister, undoing all the good she'd done.

Just what had Anna been playing at?

"I'm sorry Elsa," said Anna, staring at her shoes. "I was… only trying to help…"

"How, exactly?" said Elsa. Anna mumbled something in response. Elsa paced on the balcony. "You traumatised the duke of Salisbury so badly he was shaking. Were you—" Two women, giggling, appeared through the doors and made their way to the garden. Elsa lowered her voice. "—Aware of that?"

The words burst from Anna: "Oh Elsa, please. I said I was sorry!" Self-consciously she touched her hair. "I just… I just wanted to make things easier for you, that's all I thought. I thought I could help you find someone. I just wanted to help…"

So that was it. She should have known. Elsa took a deep steadying breath.

"Anna," she said,with measure, "I appreciate your concern, but this is my problem. For me to solve."

Anna took a step forward. "But don't you see, Elsa? It doesn't have to be! Let me help you." She clasped Elsa's hand, squeezing it earnestly between her own.

Without warning, at Anna's touch, a shock ran through Elsa. All the way to her deepest part. Her flesh quivered. She squeezed her eyes closed.

"Elsa?"

Elsa tore her hand away, more roughly than she intended. Hugged her arms tight across her chest.

She was greeted by the hurt in her sister's eyes. That was the worst part about it.

"Elsa…" there was a quiver in her sister's voice, "I… I don't understand."

 _Sweet little sister, I'm sorry,_ she thought.

"I have to go back inside, Anna. I haven't spoken to the delegation from the Southern Isles yet." She turned to the door. Stopped, when Anna's voice caught her like a string around her ankles.

"Elsa, please. Can't we talk? Something feels strange."

_How long can I pretend to myself that these feelings for you are pure? Every time you touch me, I want you._

"Anna. You know how important tonight is."

"I know, but…" a note of pleading, digging deep into the marrow of her bones.

_I'm an animal._

"So don't bother me, please."

She opened the door. She didn't dare look back at Anna.

_All I can do is hurt you._

* * *

Musicians played; people danced. But Anna stood in the corner of the room, glass of red wine in her hand, drinking alone.

She'd been so looking forward to tonight, and now she just felt miserable.

_She pushed me away. Why? Am I really that much of a bother…?_

"By that long face, the Queen must have given you a real scolding."

Her head snapped up. "Kristoff!" she said in relief. She slung her arms around his waist and hugged him tight.

"Whoah? What's wrong?" he said.

She poked his nose chidingly. "What? I can't be happy to see you?"

* * *

"Queen Matilda, it's an honour to finally meet you," Elsa said. Before her was the queen of the Spring City, a tiny little old woman shrivelled up as an old conker. Impeccably dressed. Not one hair out of place.

"Honour. Nonsense. No need for all that my dear. Arendelle's a charming little place. I'd have come visit years ago if you father didn't keep the place sealed up tighter than a nun's thighs," she said.

Elsa tried very hard to keep her face stoic. She'd heard tales of Queen Matilda, but that was one thing and actually meeting her in the flesh was another.

"You probably don't know this dear, but there were so many rumours for years about why your father kept the castle shut up. Best one I heard, he'd started a harem. You hear that one, hm?"

Elsa stared. All words had abandoned her. Thankfully she rescued trying to make a response by a young man, suited and booted, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"I apologise for my grandmother. She likes to get a reaction from people," he said.

Matilda bauked at this. "He apologises for me, he says!" She stared straight at Elsa. "Don't marry any of my grandsons," she told her. "They've no manners whatsoever. Apologise for me, he says…"

"Grandmother, now…" the young man said soothingly.

"Especially this one! Especially!" she said, stabbing a finger at her grandson. "Hasn't a clue what to do with it. You don't know how many lovely young ladies we've been through. Waste of time. We even snuck up this particularly saucy lass up to this room one night, and—"

The poor prince had gone quite pink. "Grandmother—" he protested.

"Quiet, Jareth. You know I hate interruptions—"

She paused, however, as a young woman joined their circle.

"Don't stop on account of me. You know I love your stories Grandmother," she said. She had, Elsa noticed, her blond hair done in two braids, so much like Anna often wore hers. Except this girl was as pale as the face of the moon, her cheeks tinted with rouge. Elsa didn’t know if it was a good effect, however. She reminded her of the china dolls she had when she was a child. There was something about her that seemed unreal.

Jareth let out a long groan. "Ada…" he complained.

"I'm not telling it now," Queen Matilida said grumpily. "You interrupted me, and I 've lost my place."

Jareth mouthed, 'Thank god,' at Elsa. She smiled back, perplexed.

The girl dropped into a curtsy. "Your Majesty," she said. "I should introduce myself. My name's Ada. I'm the Queen's seer."

"Seer?" A word she recognised, vaguely, from textbooks. She felt confused. Somehow, she'd gotten the impression the girl was one of Matilda's many grandchildren. "I thought you were…" she looked from Matilda to Ada. Ada understood what she was saying. She laughed.

"Not at all! I'm no more than a low-born girl," she said.

"But I'd rather have Ada as a granddaughter than the loaf grandsons I got," Matilda said. She reached for the girl's hand ans squeezed it with compassion. "She's my precious little bird. I won't let her fly away."

"I promise I won't Grandmother," Ada laughed, squeezing back.

"Seer…" said Elsa. "I'm just trying to recall. Does it have something to do with the future?"

"Yes, your Majesty. I see the future."

"She's the real deal," Jareth said. "Her predictions always come true."

It was hard to believe. "Is that… a kind of magic?" Elsa said.

"I suppose it must be. I've always been able to do it, since I was small."

Another person other than herself, capable of magic…

"And have people always believed your predictions?" she asked.

Ada bit her lip. Her eyes she cast down. "Not in my hometown. People thought I was strange… my own parents thought I was a witch. For a long time I was locked up. I was very lucky to have met the Queen…. She's been very kind to me."

Elsa's heart was moved. She looked at the girl before her; she was perhaps Anna's age. How similar her story was to her own… she wondered what would have happened to Ada if she hadn't met Queen Matilda. Just like she wondered, sometimes, what would have happened to her if Anna hadn't existed in her life.

To tell the truth, she didn't like to think about it.

Ada's eyes met hers. "If you'd like, your Majesty, I can make a prediction for you."

"I'm not sure…" said Elsa. Did she really want to see her future? Even thinking about tomorrow was sometimes frightening.

"You're looking for a suitor, right? Maybe it will help shed some light on it."

 _At this point, anything would help,_ Elsa thought. And she had to admit: she was intrigued.

"I'll take you up on your offer," she said.

"Take my hands, your Majesty," said Ada. She held them out. Elsa hesitated, and took them. "I have to warn you: I can't always see anything."

Ada closed her eyes. Queen Matilda and Jareth watched on with curiosity.

And Elsa felt unease run through her. But it was too late to say no now.

Ada's eyebrows burrowed down. "I don't understand," she said, as though to herself. "I asked about your future love prospects, but all I see is… is that the Princess Anna?"

_No!_

Ice shot up the girl's arms. She gasped from the cold, dropping Elsa's hands.

Elsa stepped back, head reeling. She started shaking and couldn't stop.

Now all there was left was the first call of "Witch!" She could see it now: the cry for her abdication, banishment, or worse. After all, what kingdom would want a queen so wicked she lusted after her own sister?

And it was all out there now. Now, everyone would know. Worse, Anna would know.

Would she ever want to see her again?

"Queen Elsa… are you alright?"

The panic faded away around her. Elsa came to, and realised that the crisis had been all in her own head. People were looking at her curiously.

"I… I'm so sorry," she said to Ada, dissolving the ice from her arms in an instant. "My powers, sometimes…"

"Please don't worry," said Ada, flexing her fingers. "No harm done."

"Perhaps," suggested Jareth, "it was your powers, in close proximity to Ada's…"

She would happily go along with that.

"I'm sorry I didn't see anything useful," said Ada. "As I said, it doesn't always work. Though I could try again…?"

"No, no… not necessary," said Elsa.

She realised: they don't understand. Though it didn't quell the shaking in her heart.

* * *

To be continued.


	5. the longest night

Staring blankly at the book in her hands, Elsa realised she’d read the same sentence five times, and still hadn’t taken in a single word.

The candle guttering, she gave up. She slumped heavily against the pillows, book cracked open on her face. When she closed her eyes, she still saw lines of text imprinted on the inside of her eyelids, repeating themselves endlessly. She pulled the book from off her nose and snapped it shut, setting on the nightstand.

The moon was a half grapefruit, perched on the windowsill.

Elsa pressed the heels of her palms against her buzzing eyelids. She didn’t dare look at the clock.

 _Anna’s not coming tonight,_ she told herself. A small voice asked, after all, why would she? _After the way you treated her._

Elsa rolled onto her side, pulling the cover over her in a jerk of angry frustration.

 _Your own feelings frightened, and you shut her out… just like before._ A hand went to her heart. _Like I promised I’d never do again._

Why was she still thinking this? She needed to sleep. And yet her restless emotions rattled around in her chest. Her encounter with the seer had frightened her, and the fear stuck to her chest like a bad cold she couldn’t shake off. Terrifying, to hear the feelings she’d kept inside so long voiced out loud. For so long had her feelings for Anna been a part of herself, part of what made her, her. To hear them in another’s mouth: a breach of her own self. Like someone rubbing dirty hands over her most precious possessions.

…It was no good. In her head, thoughts tangled like lines of text, became incoherent. Elsa slugged back the corner of the bed cover and extracted herself from the bed. An afterthought, she waved a drowsy hand, and an icy dressing gown fell over her shoulders. She pulled the door handle and went out into the corridor, thinking bathroom, water. Water would surely help clear her head.

In the darkness, something moved. Elsa froze. Her mind jumped to possibilities. Animal? Assassin?

Too dark to see, but there was a definite shape crouched by her bedroom door. Waiting for me to sleep to strike?

Elsa pulled her dressing gown up tight around her. Her voice, when she spoke, sounded braver than she felt. “Whoever you are, show yourself,” she demanded.

A quiet voice said, “E-elsa?”

That voice—

“Anna?” She knelt down by the dark shape she knew now as her sister. “What are you doing out here? It’s the middle of the night.”

“Elsa… I know you’re mad at me, b-but—” her sister let out a small hiccup. Elsa’s eyes widened in the darkness. Was Anna crying?

“Anna,” she said softly, “what’s wrong?”

She reached in the dark for Anna, and at the last minute, pulled back, cradling her hand to her chest. Fear struck her heart. “Was it me?” she asked. “Did… did I upset you?”

Confusion and tears thickened Anna’s voice. “…What? No. It was…” she trailed off.

Elsa asked, “Why didn’t you come in and tell me about it?”

“I… I was going to. But then I remembered. And I… I didn’t want to bother you. You had a long night. So I…”

 _So you sat outside my door, because I’d made you afraid to knock. For how long?_ she wondered. _How long has she been out here crying?_

_What an excuse of a sister I am._

“Anna,” she murmured. Reaching in the dark, she found an arm. She squeezed it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like this. I was stressed… I took it out on you. But Anna, even if we get annoyed at one another sometimes, you can still come to me. You don’t have to—” her voice snagged. She breathed, “talk to a door anymore.”

She needed to stop thinking about herself, her own desires. Swallow her own needs— even if they burned the whole way down.

And be her sister, damn it Elsa.

Her words loosened the floodgates in Anna. She fell upon her, sobbing into her nightgown. Words tumbled from her mouth, incoherent. Elsa caught single snatches from the mess. “He said I wasn’t-”, “-Kristoff-”, “-be friends-”

Somehow, Elsa managed to coerce the younger girl from the hard floor into her room. She was still wearing her stiff ball gown, now hopelessly crumpled. Anna reached behind her to undo the buttons, but her fingers were trembling so hard Elsa moved behind her and started, deftly, to undo them herself. For some reason, she noticed, they’d been done up wrong in the first place. Anna pushed the dress from her shoulders and let it puddle her around her feet. The moonlight washed out her freckles, and made her into a different girl. In her undergarments she crawled under the covers. There, Elsa held her. When she shook, pulled her closer, as though she could pull Anna’s sorrow out of her and into herself. Stroked Anna’s soft hair, and murmured to her sweet nothings.

When at last she quietened, Elsa said, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Face pressed to Elsa’s neck, she felt her sister nod. Anna pushed herself up.

“Kristoff and I… we broke up,” she said. “He said it wasn’t working… and we should still be friends.”

This was one of the options Elsa suspected. For some time now, her sister and her boyfriend seemed to be having problems. Where once she saw Kristoff at the castle everyday, he appeared perhaps once or twice a week.

“Well… you know balls aren’t really Kristoff’s kind of thing, so went back to his house to feed Sven.” As the royal ice master, Kristoff had his own house in town for him and Sven. Unwittingly, he’d picked up Olaf as a housemate, who’d taken a real shining to the reindeer. Kristoff was less pleased about the situation. “We haven’t been getting along so well lately. I mean…” she bit her lip in the most adorable fashion as she struggled to express herself. “He means a lot to me. I love to spend time with him. And he doesn’t think so, but he’s so funny. But I….”

It all snapped into place.

“But you don’t love him,” Elsa breathed.

“No!” Anna gasped. She pushed herself up with the force of her conviction. “No… I mean…” tears pooled under her eyes. In the moonlight they sparkled like ice.

The words she spoke like a deadly confession: “I thought I did. I was sure I did. Otherwise I would have never…”

“Would have never….?” A cold hand seized Elsa’s heart.

Anna couldn’t look her in the eye.

“When he kissed me, I never felt anything. I thought it was because there was something wrong with me. I tried to pretend, but Kristoff… he always noticed. And it hurt him. I thought I could make myself love him as much as he loved me. So I…” she trailed away.

“So you did what?” Elsa said, more urgently than she intended.

“You’re going to be furious with me,” Anna said, squeezing her eyes shut.

“You did what Anna?” It was taking every part of her not to shake the answers from her sister.

Though, really, she knew what she was going to say.

“I’m sorry Elsa. I slept with him.”

Elsa’s hands tightened round fistfuls of bedsheet, which stiffened and cracked. She imagined she was closing them around Kristoff’s neck.

“When I see that boy—” she began, speaking slowly, with a deliberate calmness. “I’m going to—”

“Elsa, please! Don’t blame Kristoff. It was my idea. I pushed him. He said we shouldn’t— and, in the end, he said we should stop.”

“So you didn’t—?” hope tinged her words.

Anna shook her head in shame. “We did. But… it was no good. He was right all along. ‘You only love the idea of me,’ he said. I had no idea what he meant…”

Hands folded on her lap, Anna stared out of the window. She could have been staring a million miles away. The moon was slipping like a quiet burglar out of the window.

“I’m a fool Elsa,” she said quietly. “I feel like a damn idiot. Going around, acting like I know everything about love. All that stupid advice I gave you! And when it comes down to it, I still don’t have a clue, any more than I did when I agreed to marry Hans. I’m just greedy. I want love, but I’ve no idea how to return it. I’m like some terrible greedy child with eyes bigger than her stomach. I-”

“Enough, Anna.” She grabbed her sister, and pulled her into a fierce embrace. “What are you trying to say?” her voice, by Anna’s ear, was nasal with emotion. “That I should call heaven’s wrath down upon you, because you don’t love Kristoff? You either love someone or you don’t. It’s no one’s fault. He knows that. That’s why he offered that the two of you could still be friends. Because he’s a good guy.” He really was, Elsa realised. For all his horrible habits, the two of them probably could have been friends, if Elsa’s own jealousy hadn’t led her to keep her distance. “But,” she said, “just because he’s a good guy doesn’t mean you have to spend your life making it up for the fact you don’t love him. You owe no one your love, Anna.”

_… not even me._

She felt Anna hug her back. “I was sure you’d be angry with me,” she confessed.

 _I am, but…_ “I love you more.”

A hiccup, against her shoulder.

“You’re too good for me Elsa.”

Elsa couldn’t help but laugh. Pulling back, Anna stared at her, puzzled.

“What?” she said.

“It’s funny,” said Elsa, between gasps of giggles. “So many times, I’ve thought exactly the same thing.”

There was nothing funny about the situation, but because of all the emotions of the night, bottled and shaken until they fizzed, Anna started laughing too. She sniffled and laughed and wiped tears from her eyes with the back of her fist.

“Whaa—at? You’re crazy!” she said. “You’re amazing, Elsa. All the stuff you can do… and you’re so elegant, and smart. I’m just…”

“-You’re just sweet, and lovely. And caring. Your heart’s so bigger Anna I don’t know how it doesn’t burst. And beautiful. I wish you knew how beautiful you are.”

Anna was gazing at her. Maybe, thought Elsa, she’d been too honest.

“You really think that stuff about me?”

Elsa nodded. “Of course.”

“Well you’re beauti-fuller,” Anna said, an old throwback. And they both laughed. How far, Elsa thought, they’d come since that night.

“Oh, psh,” said Elsa, with a flick of her wrist.

“I’m serious!” said Anna, leant forward, fists tightened in sincerity. “If you were a man, I’d marry you in a heartbeat!”

“Well,” said Elsa slyly, “maybe I should throw over all these suitors come to wed me and marry you instead.”

“Oh Elsa!” Dramatically, Anna flung her arms around Elsa’s neck. They beamed at one another, almost nose to nose, laughter rumbling in their chests.

And Elsa’s heart felt light.

“Thanks Elsa,” said her sister, squeezing her hand in hers. “I can always depend on you.”

Elsa squeezed back, too happy to speak. If only, she thought, things could stay like this. She didn’t need anything more.

“Say,” said Anna. She was looking very mischievous all of a sudden, Elsa noted with alarm. “When we were little, you always used to give me a good-night kiss before we went to bed, right?”

Elsa felt like she was going to choke. “Yes…”

Anna jumped out of the covers and knelt on the bed. Closed her eyes and smiled expectantly.

The Queen’s thoughts were meanwhile somewhere along these lines: Oh god oh god oh god. She licked her dry bottom lip. Brought her face close to Anna’s, very carefully, aiming for a patch of freckled cheek.

When, at the last minute, Anna turned her head and she caught her on the lips instead.

“Anna!” Elsa gasped, hand flying to cover her tingling lips.

Anna’s mirth escaped from her in raucous laughter. “Night!” she said, jumping under the sheets and throwing the cover over her.

Elsa wondered if she should just give up on sleep.

**To be continued.**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- I’m never too sure when Frozen is meant to be set, if indeed it’s meant to be set in our world at all. But the the style of the clothes and lack of modern inventions I decided they’d probably still have the no sex before marriage rule. Hence Anna’s feelings of shame and embarrassment.


	6. a dimmed light

The sunlight shining bright on her face, Anna awoke with a huge yawn. She laid for a few minutes in that blissful half-awake, half-asleep place, the pillows and the blankets and the sheets feeling so cosy she didn’t want to move. Finally, when the need for the bathroom was too great, she pushed her eyes open and rolled onto her side.

To see Elsa laying beside her, face squished into the pillow. This is a first, she thought. Usually by the time she woke Elsa was up, dressed, and in a meeting.

A mischievous grin worked its way up onto her face. She crawled towards her sister, fingers poised to give Elsa the tickling of her life.

—When the memories from last night came flooding back.

Anna sat. _That was a dream, right? Or did I really…?_

She tried to remember. There’d been the argument with Elsa. She’d been miserable, and one of the servants had given her a glass of wine. And then she’d kept taking them, because she’d gotten the idea in the head if she drunk enough, she wouldn’t have to think anymore. But the truth was, all it did was make her head feel fuzzy.

By the time Kristoff found her, she’d decided she was going to make things right. Because— Even if Elsa thinks I’m a bother, Kristoff loves me. He loves me.

Anna bullied him into coming with her down into the kitchens, and there they stole a bottle of wine, high-tailing it out of the castle just before Gerda could catch them. It was exciting and it was fun, and it made her feel like maybe things would be alright between them after all.

And then somehow they were back at his house, in his bedroom, drinking and pillow fighting and laughing.

“I didn’t know you drunk, your Majesty,” she remembered him saying.

She’d poked him in the chest and said, “Maybe there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

Then they were kissing, the way they always did. Except this time it was different. Their kisses were deeper, needier. And Anna was unbuttoning her gown and Kristoff’s shirt was gone. And it was only when Anna tried to wriggle out of her undergarments and laughed when they bunched and caught on her ankle that Kristoff stopped her.

“Anna— wait,” he said. “You’ve drunk— I’ve drunk too much.”

“Oh, shh,” said Anna, silencing him with a kiss. But gently he pushed her away.

“You don’t want this,” he said.

“And you get to decide that for me now?” she said, knelt on the bed, pouting lips with hands on her hips.

“Of course not. But this— you’ll regret this Anna.”

In his eyes she saw all the hurt she’d inflicted upon him. The distance she’d imposed. The unspoken words with jagged edges, far more painful than their half-serious, half-playful arguments.

And she couldn’t stand it.

“Kristoff, I love you,” she said. Though even then he didn’t look convinced. She squeezed his hands, tight. “I’m sorry about the last few weeks. I want to make it up to you. I want things to be like before. So let me prove it to you.”

“Anna-” he said. In his eyes, she saw his resolve slipping.

“I want you. I do,” she said.

“Oh Anna. I love you too,” Kristoff said, pulling her into his arms.

But the person she’d been trying to convince, she realised now, wasn’t Kristoff. It was herself.

And later Anna curled up by his side, crying. She couldn’t seem to stop crying.

“I’m— I’m so sorry Kristoff,” she choked.

Kristoff sat, lent against the headboard, staring into the dark.

“I’m sorry, too,” he said.

All her resolve laid in pieces around her. Ideas of engagement, marriage, and children. Smashed like fine china into powder.

“I think,” he said, “I think maybe we should just be friends…”

Some portion of time later she got up and tried to leave. Kristoff tried to stop her.

“It’s the middle of the night,” he protested. “Stay here tonight, at least.”

“I need Elsa,” she said. So Kristoff let her go.

—Until she remembered their argument, and sat down at Elsa’s door. Crying, thinking what a fool she’d been. Sobering up. Until her sister came out and found her.

Sat on the side of the bed, sun streaming through, she still felt a slight pounding at her temple.

_I’m never going to drink again_ , she vowed. _Never._

She gazed at her sleeping sister. She’d been so sure Elsa would be incredibly angry at her. Instead, somehow, she’d understood.

Anna’s eyes softened. How lucky she was to have a sister like Elsa.

***

As the children on stage moved into the final act, Elsa was struggling to keep her eyes open. When a yawn rose up in her throat, she swallowed it down. Queens did not yawn. Particularly not in public.

The local school children had decided, for the Pageant, to perform Sleeping Beauty. The prince, a little boy in a cavalier’s hat, bent down to peck Briar Rose on the cheek, and hat slid off his head.

“Aww,” crooned Anna, sat at her side. “That’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.”

All Elsa knew was she felt so exhausted Briar Rose’s bed was looking very comfortable right about now.

She stole a glance at Anna, who was looking enraptured as Briar Rose’s eyes fluttered open and she sat up to the hug the tiny prince.

Since this morning her sister had stuck to her like glue, even attending Elsa’s meeting with her small council. She behaved like her usual cheerful self, but somehow, something about her personality felt overcast. As though someone had cupped their hands around her candle. Her flame burned a shade dimmer today.

_She seems more fragile,_ thought Elsa. _Like how she gets when she talks about Hans._

Elsa was just happy Kristoff wasn’t in the town today. She wanted to sit down and talk with him, but… But the way I feel now, I’d probably end up yelling at him.

She was trying not to think about her sister and Kristoff together, because the thought made her want to throw up in her mouth.

Elsa just wished she was a little more knowledgeable on the subject. Princesses, however, weren’t supposed to know about sex. Years ago, if she hadn’t found certain books in the library, she would have herself spent her adolescence in the dark. It made her wonder if Anna had even known what she was getting herself into. Unvoiced questions died in her mouth: What was it like? Did it hurt?

Elsa stared at her hands, folded on her lap. She’d never so much as kissed anyone. Well, except for her sister.

Unbidden, memories of last night returned. Anna’s lips. She’d no idea lips could be so soft. Unconsciously, Elsa’s fingers moved to touch her mouth. Her eyes slipped closed.

She imagined: not Kristoff now, but her. Her pushing Anna down onto the bed. Her, clambering up atop Anna. Skin sliding against skin. Lips against lips. Hands twisting in Anna’s hair, and—

Loud cheering interrupted Elsa’s daydream. Her eyes snapped open against the bright sunlight of the square. Onstage, the children were taking a bow. Anna was standing and applauding.

_Dear god. Just what is wrong with me?_

“Ahem. Queen Elsa.” Her head whirled round to see Kai, holding a bouquet in his arms.

“Oh, of course.” Unsteadily, Elsa got to her feet and took the flowers from Kai. Watching her footing she climbed the steps to the stage, and there presented the bouquet to the girl who’d played the part of Briar Rose.

“It was a lovely play,” she said, bending down so she was eye height with the children. “You must have all practised so hard. You should be proud,” she said.

The girl clutched the bouquet to her and gasped out, “Thank you Queen Elsa!”

Their innocent eyes burned her, like hellfire.

She glanced up into the crowd. Saw white skin, red cheeks. The seer Ada, on her queen’s arm, watching her intently.

*

“Wow! These are really fancy cakes!” said Anna.

After a busy morning in the town watching the play by the children and visiting their school, she and Anna had only just had time to retire to the drawing room for lunch. And after their sandwiches, Gerda had brought in a tray of some very nice looking cakes.

Whistling, Anna picked up from the serving tray a fairy cake topped with lilies made from blue icing. She held it to the light. “I almost don’t want to eat it, it looks so pretty.”

“I’m not sure I can believe that,” said Elsa.

“Okay, yeah, that’s not true,” said Anna, promptly stuffing it into her face.

“Oh, Anna.” Still, she couldn’t help but laugh at Anna’s face she realised she’d bitten off more than she could chew. Gob full, cheeks pink, she banged on her chest.

“Are you okay?”

Anna turned redder, and then swallowed it down in one big gulp.

“Pass me another!” she said.

Elsa could only echo her previous sentiment: “Oh, Anna…” She eyed her face. Said, “Wait one moment. You’ve got a bit of…” she reached for a napkin, and lent over the coffee table to wipe the buttercream from Anna’s cheek. Squinting one eye closed, Anna laughed.

“Elsa! Who do you think you are, Mum?” As though she’d just realised what she’d said, Anna’s laughter died down. She quickly explained: “I… always used to get into a huge mess at dinner. Mum would wipe my face, just like that.”

Elsa let the napkin float down onto the tray. “I remember,” she said, brushing her skirt up behind her as she sat. “I was there… for some of it.”

“Sorry, Elsa…”

_Why? For what?_ She thought.

“Do you… still think about them?” Elsa asked.

Anna stroked one of her braids. “Sometimes… lately, quite a lot. I don’t know why.” She paused, glancing up at Elsa. “Do… do you?”

Elsa took a sip of her tea, and set it back on the saucer with a slight clatter.

“To tell the truth… I mean, unless I’m so busy I don’t have the time… yes, everyday.”

“What do you think about?” Anna asked quietly.

Elsa pushed out the creases in her dress. “I miss them. And I wonder… about what went wrong. How things turned out the way they did.”

“I’m sure…” said Anna, “that they were just trying to help.”

Elsa nodded. That was what she clung onto, too.

_Papa didn’t mean it_ _,_ she thought, a familiar mantra. _He was only trying to help. He didn’t realise what it would do to us_ _._ She looked up at her sister. Felt, after all this time, the lingering distance between them. They weren’t ordinary siblings anymore. They were regaining their closeness, but it wasn’t the same one they’d had as children. After all, this was the first time they’d spoken of the parents, in what? A year? More?

_When was the last time?_ She thought, in growing horror.

“Elsa… are you okay?”

She snapped away form her thoughts. Pushed the tray across the table to Anna.

“Have another cake,” she said. “I want to see you eat one without choking on it this time.”

Anna whipped out up, tossed it in her hand. “Challenge accepted!” she said.

A knock came at the door.

“Come in,” said Elsa.

It was Kai. “Your Majesties. Prince Jareth and his companion Miss Ada have requested an audience with you.” His eyes moved to Anna, face stuffed, a lemon meringue sticking out of her gob. Tactfully he added, “Shall I… tell them now is an inopportune time, Ma’am?”

Truth be told, Elsa had no particular desire to see Matilda’s seer again any time soon. But before she could respond the negative, Anna swallowed down the rest of her cake.

“Prince Jareth?” she asked, eyes wide, open palms slammed down on the table. “Who’s that?”

“One of Queen Matilda’s grandsons,” said Elsa. “Kai, could you kindly tell them that we’re sorry but that—”

“—That we’ll receive them immediately,” Anna said. Elsa raised her eyebrows at her.

Anna crossed her arms. Raised her chin. “As your sister,” she started, with pomp, “it’s my job to assess these so-called suitors and see if they’re up to standards.”

“Not this again,” said Elsa, exasperated.

“Yes, this again,” said Anna, leaning forward with fervour. “And if he doesn’t measure up…” with her foot, she gestured giving Jareth the boot. Except that she managed to kick the heavy oak coffee table instead. “Ouch… ouch… I’m fine.”

Elsa sighed and picked up a scone. “Alright. Kai, please send them in.”

“As you say, Ma’am,” said Kai, with a not-so-well hidden smirk.

Anna was still rubbing her foot when the rap at the door came again.

“Come in Kai,” Elsa said. Kai led in their guests.

“Your Majesties. Presenting Prince Jareth and Miss Ada,” he said, still smiling at Anna. She glared at him.

Ada curtsied. “Thank you for receiving us. It’s wonderful to see you again Queen Elsa,” she said. She was wearing a green dress embroidered with flowers, in the low-cut back fashion of the Spring Court. But Elsa’s eye was drawn to her hair. Just like last night, it was braided in the exact same style Anna wore it. For reasons she couldn’t put into words, it made her feel deeply uncomfortable.

She stood, and Anna followed suit, leaping up out of the chair.

Jareth kissed Elsa’s hand. “Truly is a pleasure, your Majesty,” he said.

Now he wasn’t surrounded by a hundred other interchangeable noblemen, she studied him closer. He wasn’t tall, only her own height. Slim to the point of silliness, stick legs, with blond hair long enough he’d tied it back. Though, she had to admit, his hair was nice. Looking at the gleam it kept, she thought she knew several ladies who would kill for hair so fine.

Apparently, from Anna’s stare of shock and envy, her sister was one of them. She saw her mouth the words, “Son of a—”

She only just managed to pull on a crooked smile by the time Jareth turned to her, taking her hand and planting a kiss on it.

“Yourself as well, Princess. My name’s Prince Jareth of the Spring City.”

“Uh…. hi,” she said.

Elsa raised her eyebrows at her sister, as if to say: You better not be falling for this one.

'You're kidding!' Anna mouthed. She coughed and covered it with her hand.

“Join us and have a cake,” she said. “They’re super good.”

“My sister certainly speaks from experience,” Elsa said.

Anna kicked her.

“Scone?” she said sweetly, offering the tray to Ada.

Their guests took a cake each and Anna got straight to the point. “So… uh, for what do we owe you the pleasure of your company?”

Sipping her tea, Elsa smiled. Anna had always struggled with etiquette. She just ended up sounded like a child trying on her mother’s shoes.

“Do we need to get straight to business?” asked Jareth, flashing a charming smile. “I’m quite enjoying being surrounded by so many lovely ladies.”

Anna stared at him. He quickly took another scone.

Ada lent forward in her chair. “Your Majesty,” she said to Elsa, “it’s a trifle really. It’s about her Grace Queen Matailda. She has a room on the third floor, and though she wouldn’t ever admit it, she’s having trouble with the stairs. I spoke with your master of the inventory but he seemed uncooperative. Which lead me to fear the Queen made have said something… innappropriate. I believe you have witnessed the kind of thing I’m talking about first-hand.”

“What I have to live with everyday,” Jareth said, arms slung behind the armchair, head tilted back in a sigh.

Stealthily, Anna put a hand to her chest. ‘My heart bleeds,’ she mouthed.

Elsa stifled a giggle behind her cup.

Ada continued, “If you could be so kind as to have a word, your Majesty, I would—”

Elsa set her cup down. “No problem at all. I’ll speak to Kai this afternoon.”

It occurred to Elsa now. Where was Queen Matilda? This was the first time she’d seen the girl not attached to the old woman. She asked Ada how her queen was faring. Ada responded that the queen was feeling tired and went to rest in her quarters, and thank you for asking.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Anna lining up the rest of the cakes into a circle on the tray. So much for all her sister’s bravado. She was bored already.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” Elsa said. “I hate to ask you to leave so soon, but because of the Pageant we’ve a lot left to do…-”

“We understand, your Majesty,” said Ada, standing and curtsying once more, very formal. “Thank you for seeing us on such short notice.”

Jareth stood too, but then paused, as though a thought had hit him.

“I say,” he said, “Princess Anna, you must let Ada read your fortune sometime. She read your sister’s last night.”

That caught Anna’s attention.

Elsa bit her lip. The uneasy feeling was back in her stomach.

“You’re a fortune-teller?” Anna asked Ada eagerly.

“Essentially, Princess, yes,” said Ada.

“Ooh, Elsa,” her sister said excitedly, whirling round to her. “What did you see?”

_Good god. What do I say?_

Ada, however, shook her head. “I couldn’t get a clear reading for your sister. In my experience, some people are harder to read than others. But I’d be happy to look at for your future Princess Anna.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Elsa said, quickly. “But I’m afraid we don’t have time.”

Anna looked aghast. “But El—- _sa_. She’s a fortune-teller. _A_ _fortune-teller_ _.”_

Elsa clasped her hands in front of her. “You’ve seen our schedule Anna.”

“But—- Elsa—-” she implored.

“It won’t take but a minute,” Ada said.

_Oh—_

“Fine. Do as you wish.” She turned, swiftly, to face the window, where Anna wouldn’t see her shaking hands.

But she listened, intently.

“What do you wish to know, Princess?” the seer asked.

_She’ll ask about love,_ Elsa thought.

“I… I want to know what direction I need to travel in, to find happiness.”

Elsa turned. _What…?_

Ada had hold of her sister’s hands. She began to speak. “I see troubles ahead of you, Princess, I’m afraid. But there is a person… I see them standing close to you. They’re a person you know very well. That person will help guide you through it. And through that person you will find happiness. The manner of that happiness, however, is up to you.”

“A person close to me?” Anna murmured. She looked pleasantly mystified. “I love riddles.”

“We’ll take our leave now. Thank you for seeing us your Majesties,” said Ada. Jareth said some courteous words. Though, puzzlingly, Ada dropped the stiffly formal curtsy. Instead she pressed Elsa’s hand between her own. “Till next we meet,” she said, before she and the prince left.

Elsa discovered why. She’d pressed a folded piece of paper into her hand. Elsa stared at it.

Behind her Anna said, “Can’t say I think much of The Hair, unless you’re interested in taking lessons on how to bore someone to death. Suppose he could be worse though…. Elsa?” Gingerly she asked, “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“No, of course not,” Elsa said absently, unfolding the paper. She read through the short message once, and then again, in case she’d misread it. And then the note in her hands was solid ice.

> **_Queen Elsa,_ **
> 
> **_I saw more of your future than I could say yesterday, in good company. If you wish to know more, meet me in my room tonight. I’d recommend you tell no one else about this, but I imagine you realise that already._ **
> 
> **_I’ll be waiting._ **

_To be continued._


	7. heart's desire

 

She'd made the corridor so cold that Elsa's breath, rising in front of her, was a will-'o-the-wisp of vapour. Her hand hesitated before the door. _I am a queen,_ she told herself. _I've no reason to be afraid. Whatever this girl thinks she knows, she's wrong. And I'll tell her so._

_Maybe I'm overreacting,_ she thought hopefully, desperately. _Maybe it's something else entirely._

That's what she'd been telling herself, to get through a day of agonising waiting, fighting off perversely persistent fantasies of being branded a witch. The cold eyes of her people, staring at her in disgust. The contempt of the council. The church shouting for her abdication, banishment.

Anna, dearest Anna, looking at her like a stranger.

Under her hand, the door crackled as ice flashed across it, leaving an ugly scab of spikes and cartilage.

This had to stop. Elsa swallowed the daydreams down like poison and knocked on the door.

"Come in," said Ada.

Elsa turned the doorknob and pushed. The door was stuck. She shoved it open, hard, and ice shattered around her.

Inside, the guest room was lit by the warm flickering hues of the fire. Ada was crouched down by the grate, stoking the flames.

Except—

Ada's shoulders, flecked with copper as though she'd been flicked with a paintbrush. The nape of her neck. She knew it anywhere. This wasn't Ada at all but—

"Anna?" Elsa called. "What are you doing he—"

Her words died in her mouth as Anna stood and turned round.

"Sorry your Majesty. I'm not your sister," Ada said ruefully.

_But… I was so sure that…_

"Forgive me," Elsa said. "From behind you look a lot like—" But the more she thought, the more her reasoning fell away from her. This girl was blond. And looking at her harder she really looked nothing like Anna.

Elsa realised she was staring, and quickly looked away. "Sorry," she said.

The clink of metal as Ada replaced the metal poker in the stand. "Can I ask you something Elsa?"

_Elsa?_ Why the sudden drop in formalities? She glanced up, to see Ada sit down on the rug in front of her fire, fingers deftly unlacing her boots.

"What is it?" said Elsa, hesitant.

"You sound so worried." She looked over her shoulder with a smile. "I'm not going to ask you something terrible so don't worry." She slipped her boot from her foot and let it flop onto the floor. "I wanted to ask why you decided to get married."

Elsa's hands tightened. She said, "That's my personal business."

"Because," Ada continued, "possibly its none of my concern, but I can't help but think you don't seem very attentive to your suitors. You seem distracted."

"You've been watching me," said Elsa. It wasn't a question.

"It just made me wonder. Why you decided to take a husband, when you are clearly unenthusiastic about the prospect."

Had she really been so obvious? It was true Anna had been on her mind more than usual lately, but…

"You're right. It's not your concern. Though, you're correct. I'm not incredibly enthusiastic over taking a husband, but…" She clasped her hands together. "The Winter Paegant is a tradition. I'm the Queen. Taking a husband is my duty."

Ada slipped her other foot free and set her shoes by the fire. She lounged back on the rug, stretching like a cat. From upside down, she smiled at Elsa.

"But you're no ordinary queen, Queen Elsa. So why are you trying so hard to do things the 'ordinary' way? Do you want that much to be normal?"

"You're talking about… my ice powers?"

"I've heard your story Queen Elsa. How your father locked the doors of the castle and hid you away. You were different, so he tried to make you invisible. And here you are now, supposedly free, still trying so hard to be normal. I wonder, how free are you, really?"

When she spoke, Elsa's voice was taut. "I don't know where you've heard your stories, but my father was trying to protect me. To protect my sister. He wasn't hiding me from anyone. Or trying to make me invisible, whatever that's supposed to mean."

Ada pushed herself up from her place in front of the fire. She stood and looked at Elsa. Her eyes were bright. "My father said the same thing," she said. "That he was only protecting me. Except that our dingy basement wasn't as grand or pleasant as your castle. I imagine you have a lot less rats here, too."

Elsa said nothing.

"Look at that." Ada's eyes wandered down her. "Perhaps it worked. I wonder how much of the real Elsa is left there, beneath the manners and grace."

"You are _rude_."

"You'll have to forgive me your Majesty. I grew up on a farm, not in a castle." Ostentatiously, she curtsied.

Elsa is crystalline, impenetrable ice. "And I _don't_ appreciate you mocking me."

Their eyes met. Ada shrugged apologetically. "Sorry," she said. "Sometimes I go too far. I'm the same, you see. You spend too long pretending to be someone else, you end up losing who you were in the first place. Don't you ever wonder, who it is you really are?"

"I don't understand what you're saying. I'm not sure I want to either."

"So cold! And here I was, so excited to finally meet someone else with magic. And you don't seem to trust me at all."

_I don't._ Since the moment she saw her, she didn't. Though she couldn't put into words why.

It was as though Ada heard her without the need to speak. "You really should. Trust me, I mean. I mean you no harm, Elsa. It's others you should be worrying about."

Silently she moved to the gilded table where a glass pitcher sat. She poured herself a glass of water.

Elsa took a step forward. "What do you mean?" she said. More importantly: "Who?"

Ada took a seat on the chaise lounge. Quite calmly spoke: "There's a few, but Queen Matilda most of all."

_Queen Matilda!_ That harmless batty old queen?

"I see from the look on your face you don't believe me," said Ada. "Don't worry. You're not the first person she's fooled, by a long shot. But she's not the same woman as the woman she wants people to see. There were at least a dozen people in that ballroom last night she's blackmailed."

"Blackmailed?" spluttered Elsa.

"There's a name she's known by. Perhaps you've heard it. They call her: _the queen of secrets_. She finds the dirtiest laundry dukes and kings and noblemen have to offer, and they offer her their allegiances, or she hangs them out to dry."

The queen of secrets. Perhaps Elsa might have heard it, if she hadn't spent years shut away from the political world.

"Where?" said Elsa. "Where does she get all the secrets from?"

Ada brought the goblet to her lips and drank. "From me," she said.

"From…" Elsa's mind put together conjectures, formulated results. She took a step back.

Ada shrugged. "It's ridiculously easy, really. Everyone wants their fortune read. Most don't even need any persuading. Except, I don't actually see the future. What I have seen, however is a lot of cheating husbands, greedy aristocrats and one very happy old queen with a full treasury."

"You… _don't_ see the future?"

"I see _heart's desire_ , Elsa. That's my gift. What people want. What they need. Sometimes, things they don't even know themselves, I see."

And Ada had read her "fortune." In that case, there was no doubt as to what she saw.

Despite the fire, the room was becoming chilly. She saw Ada rubbing her bare arms.

"You told me I could trust you," Elsa said in a frightened murmur.

"I bear you no ill harm. I'm no more than a tool. Do you blame the killer or the knife she wields?"

"What is it?" Elsa asked. "What… does she want?"

"She wants you to marry one of her grandsons," Ada said. Matter-of-fact.

"Or what?" The temperature in the room was plummeting. The fire in the grate crackled, fighting against the draft that rattled the windows and whistled in through the cracks. Elsa couldn't control it.

Just as matter-of-fact: "She tells anyone who'll listen about the feelings you bear for your younger sister."

The wind blew the window open in an icy blast. A _crack,_ as the glass panes hit the wall. The fire, extinguished, embers scattered into the air.

"You liar!" Like the wind, her voice was rising without her control. "You liar! This is filth. Slander! I would never— never—"

Ada stood. The winter wind blew the papers from the desk in a flurry and yet the girl was wrapped in an incredible calm, a coldness of her own.

"A few minutes ago, you called me a name. You thought I was someone else." Her eyes met the storm in Elsa's. "I see heart's desire in others, and they see it in me. That's my real secret."

In the braids of her hair, the shape of her neck and shoulders, the hue of her eyes, Elsa found her. It was Ada in the room, but it was her sister, Anna too.

Her heart's desire.

The wind ceased. The papers fluttered to the floor. In the grate, white hot embers hissed.

"I… I never wanted anyone to know," Elsa said. She felt light, like the slightest breath might blow her away. "Not anybody. Especially not Anna." She glanced up at the girl. Ada. Anna. "I never wanted to hurt her. You must understand that." She wrapped her hands around her sides, trying to hold herself together. "What does your queen want? Tell me, and I'll do it."

Anna— no, Ada was looking at her with a strange expression. It looked like disappointment. "Queen Matilda has nine grandsons. Most of them are oafs. I brought Jareth with me earlier to meet you because he's the best of the bunch. He's dull, but he's not unkind as his brothers are. And he won't touch you unless you want him to. He's been madly in love with his page boy for years."

"That's fine… tell her that's fine." The door. She had to get out of here. Out of herself. "I've… I've got a lot to do tomorrow. I'll say goodnight."

As her hand went for the doorknob, Ada's voice stopped her. "You're really going to go along with it? After hiding your real self for— your whole life, you're going to do it again?" The passion in her voice made Elsa's head turn round. Ada's hands were balled tight. "For what, or who's sake?" she demanded.

"For her," said Elsa, before she twisted the doorknob.

The embers died in the ash.

_To be continued._

 


	8. incendiary

It was a familiar dream.

In their corridor, Anna faced the cold heavy door. Some nights she was her own age, but tonight, she was a child again and her sister's door stood mammoth and impassable.

Timidly, she knocked. "Elsa? Elsa, are you there?" She peered into the keyhole. "Do you want to come play?"

She bit her lip, waiting for Elsa to tell her to go away, or to yell at her. Elsa had never yelled at her, but sometimes in her dreams she did. _Go play by yourself! Unlike you, Anna, I have studies to attend to. I'm going to be queen one day. You're not going to be anything. So leave me alone!_

"Elsa…?" she said. "Please? I'm so lonely. Gerda says she's too busy to play with me today…"

"You can come in Anna," came Elsa's muffled voice from behind the door.

Elated, Anna went for the door handle, when another fear struck her: what would she find behind the door?

Sometimes, when Elsa let her in, she found a stranger in her sister's room. Once, she discovered a wolf in her bed, dressed in Elsa's clothes. Another time, she found Elsa lying on the floor, dead, and no matter how much she yelled, no one came.

The time that was the most terrifying, however, was when Elsa called for her to come in, and Anna found the room, empty. She ran her hand along her dresser and her fingers came back, dusty.

Chest full of tight fear, Anna turned the handle and pushed the door open. The fear loosened and she breathed again as she saw Elsa sat on the side of the bed. Adult Elsa, though her dreaming mind did not notice the discrepancy.

"Elsa!" she said. "I've got a new bike. Do you want to—"

She stopped, when she noticed the other person in the room. Her breath caught. It was a stranger, a man. He sat by Elsa's side, far too close, his hand touching her waist in an obscenely intimate way Elsa would never have allowed.

"Hey!" she said. "Get away from my sister you creep! She doesn't—" Striding purposely forward her words became ash in her mouth. Elsa cupped her hand around the man's cheek fondly, and kissed him.

"Elsa—" Her tone became pleading. But her sister took no notice of her. Fingers tangled in the man's hair she drew him close as though to breath him in, and the air was gone from Anna's lungs.

_Leave her alone!_ She wanted to shout, but the words were caught to the inside of her chest, a wound stuck to the bone. _Don't touch her!_ She wanted to say, but she could do nothing but stand transfixed.

The man buried his face in the crook of her neck, laying slick kisses. Elsa arched back, eyelids flickering closed, and her sister made a noise she'd never heard leave her lips before.

And Anna's chest burned with white-hot fire. "Get away from her!" she shouted, advancing upon them. "She's _my_ sister! She is _mine_!"

…Before she woke. Throwing herself up into a sitting position with the strength of her fury, heart pounding, tongue poised to hurl curses, she stared at Elsa's bedroom wall. Rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She looked down, at the empty space beside her.

_I shouldn't sleep on an empty stomach… bizzare._

Anna put a hand to her heart. Beneath her cotton nightgown, it wouldn't stop pounding.

* * *

Anna hammered on the front door of the wooden townhouse.

"Kristoff. Kristoff! I know you're in there. I know you don't want to see me, but please, just let me talk to you. Just for a few minutes, then I promise I'll leave you alone." In the street, citizens were staring at her. A couple was whispering to one another. Anna didn't care. She pounded on the door again. "Kristoff!"

When Kristoff and Sven emerged from behind the building, reins in the young man's hand. "Geez Anna. Are you trying to yell the whole street down?"

Sven greeted her happily with an enthusiastic lick to the face. She rubbed the back of the reindeer's head, saying with a wince, "Sorry."

Kristoff turned and headed back down behind the house, and Sven trotted after him. Anna followed.

Kristoff's sled sat on several slats of wood. He was apparently kitting it out and replacing the reigns. As Anna appeared round the corner he knelt down and started laboriously waxing the lacquer with a lump of beeswax.

"You're heading out again soon?" said Anna.

Kristoff made a noise that sounded like 'yes.' "Moon's almost full," he said. "And it'll be cold tonight. Good conditions."

He carried on with his task, adding a bit of spit shine and rubbing the sled squeaky clean with a soiled sleeve. Anna hung about, playing with the bracelet on her wrist, looking about the garden she'd seen a thousand times before.

"Do you— um— want any help?" she asked.

An amused noise came from the back of Kristoff's throat. "It's fine, Anna."

"Oh. Okay…"

Sven nudged her, and absently she scratched him under the chin, just where he liked it. "How are you Sven?" she asked. He made an unhappy sounding noise. "What's wrong?"

"He says he's sad because you haven't come to visit in a while," said Kristoff. Anna pressed a hand to her heart, looking over at Kristoff, working ceaselessly.

"Ah, I'm sorry Sven…" she said. He nuzzled her face with his soft, wet nose, and Anna wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her forehead to his slick fur.

… _I really am._

"Is there a reason you're here?" Kristoff asked, bluntly.

Anna flinched, dropping her arms from the reindeer. _Cold, ice cold._

"I just thought… I wanted to…" _talk._ But now she couldn't think of a word to say to him.

Staring at the ground, she glanced up when she saw movement. Kristoff straightened up, rubbing the back of his head uncomfortably. "Look, that came out wrong," he said.

Hiding behind her hair, staring at the ground. "Can we… really still be friends?"

"… I don't know."

Anna smiled against tears. _Honest, as always. That's my Kristoff._ Though it came to her in a rush of clarity: he wasn't her Kristoff anymore, was he?

"I don't want to lose you." The words left her in a flood. Her hands tightened. Nails bit into her palms.

"Anna…" the word left him a long sigh.

"You're going to the mountains because of me, aren't you?" she said. Quickly, like ripping off a bandage. She glanced up, to see him staring into the distance, one hand on his sled.

"I need some time alone. To think. Just talking to you Anna… it's painful."

"Kristoff…" she started.

He shook his head. "I'm not blaming you. To tell the truth…" he struggled to speak, and in the end shrugged, eyeing her with a wry smile. "It's been in the back of my mind for a while. That you… well, didn't feel the same way about me as I did you. Should have expected it, I guess. I mean, you're a princess. And I'm just…"

"Kristoff!" There was a flash of the usual Anna as she put her hands on her hips. "You know it had nothing to do with that."

A slight grin. "Yeah, I know. Highness."

She tried to glare at him. But instead, she started crying. The tears welled in her eyes, and as fast as she could wipe them away, hot and humilating, they fell.

Kristoff had been her best friend. And she'd ruined that between them.

"Anna—" Kristoff took long strides towards her, reaching out a comforting hand. Before he could touch her, he stopped, hanging back awkwardly.

"Have a safe trip," she said, wiping the tears with a furious swipe of her arm. "And when you get back, if— if you still don't want to see me, I'll understand. I'll wait. Until you want to talk to me again."

Kristoff laid a hand against her shoulder. "Anna…alright," he said.

Anna squeezed her hand on top of his. It was firm, calloused, familiar. Then she let it go. Kissed Sven on his nose. "Take care of Kristoff, okay?" she said, taking off at a run, because she couldn't bear to just walk away.

"Anna!"

She looked back.

"Are you…" sadness and concern fought for supremacy in his eyes. Concern won out, "are you okay?"

Anna smiled. It only hurt a little bit. "I'm always okay!" she said, brightly. As though her attitude was infectious, Kristoff smiled, too.

Though something made him pause.

"Is your sister alright?" he asked.

Her brow scrunched together. "Why do you ask?"

In reply, Kristoff raised a hand to the air. And Anna realised: it had started to snow.

* * *

This wasn't just any old snow. Anna could tell from the look of it, the smell, and taste of it: no questions about it, this was Elsa's snow.

The question was, _why_ was it falling? Anna knew her sister still didn't have complete control over her powers (once she tickled her too hard and Elsa turned her hands into ice cubes). However, they were only ever small lapses. Not since the great thaw had her sister accidentally made it _snow._

In the courtyard, children were laughing and catching snowflakes with their hands. Two of the visiting French dignitaries stood under shelter, gazing out at the snow.

One sighed deeply. Said to his companion: "Summer or winter, you cannot escape ze snow een Arendelle."

Anna picked up the pace. When one of the children called to her, "Princess Anna! Will you come play with us?" she replied back, "Not now!"

She had to find Elsa. She pounded up the stairs and flung open her sister's door, but her bedroom was empty. The small council room, likewise, laid silent, and she wasn't in the small cosy study where she did most of her paperwork. Her uneasiness growing into a quiet desperation, she grabbed the arm of a maid making her way down to the kitchens, spoke breathlessly: "Cressa! Have you seen Elsa?"

"Queen Elsa? Why no," said the young maid, eyebrows in her hair. "Your Highness, is there something wrong?"

"Look outside," was all Anna could manage. Cressa's eyes darted to the window, where the snow was falling harder. Her mouth widened into a small O. Anna rushed on. Behind she heard Cressa calling to one of the other maids.

"Find Queen Elsa!"

Anna wasn't hurrying now, but running. She ran so fast she stopped looking where she was going. And stopped an inch away before she skidded straight into Kai.

"I see this corridor still doubles as a racetrack, Princess Anna," he said, eyeing her with his usual sly amusement.

"I don't have time for your jokes Kai," Anna huffed. "I need to find Elsa! Do you know where she is?"

"Of course," he said.

"Of course?!"

"If you'd follow me, Princess." Hands folded behind his back, he set off at a hideously, leisurely pace. Anna had no choice but to follow him down the stairs, itching to run ahead.

"So where is she?" she demanded.

"Queen Elsa is taking lunch with the queen of the Spring City, Queen Matilda, and her grandson."

Lunch! That didn't make any sense. And—

"With _The Hair?_ " she spluttered.

Kai smiled deeply. "I believe he's known as Prince Jareth, Ma'am."

They reached the heavy oak doors of the dining room, and not understanding the urgency, Kai made to rap at the door.

Anna slammed it open.

And she stood in the doorway, breathing hard, to behold a puzzling sight. Sat at one end of the dining table, laden down with lunch, was the tiny old queen of the Spring City, The Hair… and Elsa. Not a hair out of place, she sat as poised and graceful as ever, half way through slicing up an apple. Unharmed, and apparently… fine. She looked at Anna, blinking.

"Anna, are you alright?" she asked.

Anna stared dumbly. "Am… I alright?"

The Hair got to his feet. "That was quite an entrance! I'm so glad you could join us, Princess Anna," he said enthusiastically. "I know Queen Elsa can't wait to tell you the news."

"Anna." Before she could start to wonder what The Hair was on about, her attention was back on her sister. "I'm glad you're here," Elsa said. "I wanted you to meet Queen Matilda, queen of the Spring City."

The little old woman grinned at her, a smile as mischievous as an imp's. "As pretty as your sister," she said.

"Um… thanks? I mean, um, thank you." She couldn't seem to convince her thundering heart that everything was okay.

Had she been wrong all along? Maybe the snow outside really wasn't Elsa's. She bit her lip. It was. She was sure it was.

"Come join us Anna. I've got something to tell you," said Elsa.

"Oh, um, okay…" she edged round the room and pulled her chair out with a hideous scrape, taking a seat beside Jareth. _Something is wrong here,_ she thought, looking round the table. The old queen was still grinning. Jareth was beaming, positively aglow. Elsa, the picture of composure.

She began to speak: "You'll be happy to know that as of today, our ties with the Spring City have been strengthened infinitely."

"Oh… that's great," said Anna. Not having the foggiest what Elsa was talking about.

Elsa's hands were folded demurely on the table in front of her. But now, Jareth put his hand over hers. And she let it stay there.

Realisation in her widening eyes. _Oh no. No no no no._

"I've decided to marry Prince Jareth," Elsa said.

The sight of Jareth's hand on her sister's: it sparked something inside her heart. An incendiary hatred, so hot it burned.


	9. buried in the snow

Later, thinking back on it, her own audacity shocked Anna.

"Elsa… you can't!" the words left her mouth on her own. A hush fell upon the room. Vaguely she felt the shock from Queen Matilda and her nephew. But she had eyes only for her sister.

Her outburst hadn't ruffled Elsa at all. Sat straight, hands folded, despite the snowfall outside. Anna's eyes bored into her sister's, searching for understanding, what Elsa was thinking, _anything_.

But Elsa's eyes were glass, and she saw nothing inside them.

Something about this was very wrong.

"Anna," Elsa started. "We can talk about this later." Alone, was the implication. Don't cause a scene, her cold eyes warned her.

What was going on?

"Elsa…" the word was ripped from somewhere deep inside her. Imploring. Afraid.

But Elsa simply turned her head away and begun conversing with Matilda. "Regarding the date of the ceremony, I was thinking that…"

Nothing Anna could do but turn and walk away.

* * *

Anna's sudden anger seared itself away faster than butter in a pan. Stood in the garden, catching cold flurries in her hands, she felt bewildered. Bleak.

_I wish Kristoff was here,_ she thought, wishing there was someone she could talk to about this. _But I bet he's left already._

The snow wasn't showing any sign of ceasing, and the garden looked as though it'd been sprinkled with icing sugar, dusting the grass, the trees, the bench. The snow fell gently, in spiralling frozen fractals. Anna lent her head back and gazed up, and it felt like she was rising into the sky.

"Anna." Elsa was standing a few feet away from her. There was a flush in her face and neck, and she was breathing heavier than normal. "I… looked everywhere for you."

Anna gazed through the flurries at her sister. Watched, as Elsa's hand tightened over her elbow.

"You knew this was going to happen," she said. "You knew what this festival was about."

_I know that, but…_

"So I don't know why you're upset about this." When she still didn't respond Elsa prompted her, "Anna. Are you going to talk to me?"

"Just… does it have to be that guy?" she said miserably.

"The Spring City is rich. They'll be a powerful ally for us."

"And that's all that matters?" Anger seeped back into her voice.

"Yes," Elsa said simply.

Anna kicked the ground.

"Anna, you know this has nothing to do with love…" Elsa started.

"I know!" Anna huffed. "I'm not that naive. I know that. But…"

"But what?" Elsa was gazing at her, brow pinched, as though she were trying to figure out what Anna was thinking. If only she knew herself.

_But… it's just not fair._

"Is Jareth really that bad?" Elsa said.

Was he? When it came down to it, Anna had met him once, which, in the grand scheme of things, barely even counted as knowing someone. The one valuable thing Hans had taught her. She didn't know Jareth's likes and dislikes, she didn't know his surname, she didn't know what he did when he got angry. But, she realised, she knew one thing: "He won't make you happy."

"Is happiness really so important…?" Elsa said. Anna started. She stared at her sister, who'd turned her body away and was looking into the distance, though her eyes seemed to gaze even further. "There are other things that are more meaningful. That's what I think, anyway."

Anna squeezed her hands tight, so hard it hurt. _She acts like she's all okay with this, but it's not true._ "So why," she said, her voice strengthening with every word, "why is it snowing?"

White flurries fell between them. Snowflakes stuck to Elsa's hair. She let her eyes slip closed, and a sparkling perfect snowflake stuck to her eyelash. She didn't reply. A few foot apart, and they could have been separated by the ocean.

"You're keeping something from me." Anna tried to keep the hurt from her voice, but it slipped in anyway. I know you are. You're shutting me out again."

She wanted Elsa to deny it, but instead she saw her sister bite down on a frosty lip, eyelashes full of sparkling snowflakes.

It hurt. "Don't you trust me?" Anna asked.

"Don't say that…" Elsa said, shaking her head, snowflakes drifting free from her hair.

Anna stepped forward. "Why?" she said. "Because it's true?" Elsa's eyes flashed open; she gazed at Anna with fearful eyes. Anna took another step. Today, she'd say the words she never could, the ones that caught behind her teeth and stuck to her gums. "Even after everything we've been through, I feel like… like you're still keeping a part of yourself from me Elsa. You still won't let me in. I want to know why. And— you're going to tell me," she demanded.

She knew instantly she'd pushed too far. And if you pushed Elsa too far she pushed you back. She shut you out and smothered you with her silence.

_She's going to run away,_ Anna thought, quietly.

"Everything always has to be about you, doesn't it Anna?" the words that left the queen was spoken in such a silent murmur that at first, Anna thought she must have misheard them.

_What?_

There was no longer fear in Elsa's eyes. If they could be called eyes: they were two hard, cold river stones.

She spoke slowly, calmly, and coldly: "Perhaps you don't realise, sister, but being queen comes with burdens. This is one of them. I don't need a lecture from a teenager about it." The frostiness in her voice stole the air from Anna's lungs.

"I… but, Elsa…" she said.

"I'm not finished," said Elsa, the same tone of voice she'd heard her use to the duke she'd banished for embezzling. No longer Elsa, but the Ice Queen incarnate. It set a chill to her bones. "I've had enough of your meddling in my affairs, like that business you got up to at the ball. I've put up with it because you're my sister… from now on, stop."

She turned, icy cloak whipping around her, and made to walk away.

"Elsa!" Anna called, making after her. "Don't leave. Can't we—"

Briefly, Elsa paused. She inclined her head, but didn't look back. "One more thing. Stop clinging to me… it's annoying."

She left Anna standing, shivering in the cold.

How, she wondered, had she managed to ruin things between them so badly?

Around her, the world was white.

* * *

Elsa sat behind her door, arms clamped around her legs, trying to hold herself together.

Around her, the world was dark. Black, heavy clouds matted together and cast the castle into darkness. Why couldn't she control herself? Arendelle didn't deserve to be subjected to her.

Neither did Anna.

_But… what other choice did I have?_ Being with Anna… it was too painful. She thought it would be enough to be Anna's sister and nothing more. Her and Anna's growing intimacy had smashed that dream.

Love… was bright. And warm, and wonderful. And it was painful and dark, and terrifying too.

She was afraid: what if she ended up resenting Anna one day?

Better to push her away. Cut her off, like an infected limb, before it ruined the whole. So she'd been cruel to her, and said all the things she knew would hurt Anna most.

_What a terrible sister I am. What would Mother and Father say, if they could see me now?_

Footsteps from outside. _Anna,_ she thought. Though there was no way she'd knock on her door, after what she'd said to her.

Outside her door, she heard the footsteps pause. Without meaning to, Elsa held her breath.

Anna knocked. Not her usual bright knock. Three, careful, timid raps.

"Elsa… I know you're in there."

Her arms tightened round her legs. Elsa curled into herself.

"I… I wanted to apologise about what I said. I was… out of line. I guess… I guess I don't really understand anything about what it means to be Queen." Breathy, self-deprecating laughter. "I don't really do anything, after all. I'm just the screw-up."

_I'm the screw-up!_ thought Elsa. _Good lord, Anna, you're wonderful._

"And… I'm sorry about always getting in your way. I guess I get overexcited and eager sometimes… gods, I'm such an idiot…"

_You're not an idiot!_ She wanted to shout it out, but she couldn't say a word.

Anna's voice was close and breathy. Elsa realised she must be pressed up right against the door. "I'll… I'll leave you alone from now on, if that's what you want." Silent pleading in her voice. Elsa's fingernails bit into her kneecaps.

_Please don't. Please…_

"I… I love you Elsa."

She was silent for a second, and then Elsa heard her sister's footsteps retreating.

Frozen tears encrusted her eyes.

_I love you too, Anna._

* * *

_To be continued._


	10. memory

Her own storm, eventually, ended. And it was a tsunami of cheering that erupted as the contestant put the arrow straight through the bullseye _._

As part of the Winter Paegent, it'd become tradition to hold several contests, free for any man in Arendelle to enter. Today was the archery. Elsa sat in the wooden stands erected in the town square. Franz sat her right. The seat to her left was empty.

As she thought it would be. Though gazing at her sister's empty seat, she felt a pang of longing. Did she have to say what she'd said? Had there been another way?

"What do you think of that, Elsa?" Franz said with enthusiasm. "That young man's going for the gold, I think!"

Elsa gazed at the arrow through the bullseye, feigning interest. "I think you might be right."

The next contestant stepped up and Franz's attention was diverted. Elsa sat back, eyes slipping closed.

_How?_ She thought. How had she spoilt things between them so irrevocably? Why had Anna believed her? Surely she knew— she had to know— how much Elsa loved her.

Why had she gone along with it so easily?

In an instant, they were back to the way they were. The sisters of Arendelle, sisters of closed door and cold silences.

The memory of another day, their worst day, rose up in her throat. She couldn't swallow it down.

* * *

Papa's study smelled of wood, smoke and old books. Stood by the desk with spiral legs, which as a child, she'd curled herself round, fifteen year old Elsa resorted to pleading with her father.

"Please, Papa. It's only for one day," she said.

Sat behind the desk with an ankle resting on his knee, the King took a puff of his pipe, drumming his fingers on the table unhappily.

"You know I'm not doing this to be cruel to you, Elsa," he said. "I'm just looking out for you and your sister."

"I know that. And I understand," said Elsa. She wore her hair in a tight knot behind her head. The collar of her dress chafed her neck. She wore the gloves. "But please. Just for one day. I know I can keep my powers under control. What kind of sister will I be if I don't even wish Anna a happy birthday?"

"One that keeps her safe," the King said, in a tone that told her, _case closed_.

But Elsa had been working on Anna's present for too long. If her father knew what it was, he'd be furious. One of his strictest rules: never to play with her powers. But for weeks now, she'd been working on Anna's present. Three times she'd accidentally frozen her curtains and countless was the number of gloves she'd been through. When she wasn't working on it, she'd hidden it underneath her bed. Her heart had almost jumped out of her skin when last week, her mother had knocked and walked straight in. She'd barely time to hide the present behind her back, her mother sighing at the bed posts, scaled with icicles.

They wouldn't understand: that this was something she just had to do.

"Please, Papa. I'm begging you," she said, hands pressed down the desk, lips pursed tight with emotion.

The King, conflicted, pressed a thumb and forefinger to his lined brow. "…Alright, Elsa," he said at last, with a great sigh. "You can come to Anna's birthday dinner tomorrow. But that's it."

Elsa wanted to jump up and down with excitement. Instead, she clasped her hands together, sunshine spilling out of her every pore.

"Thank you Papa!"

She just couldn't wait to see Anna's face when she gave her her present!

* * *

Anna gazed with ravenous eyes over the table, surprised it wasn't creaking under the weight of all the food laid out. Jam sandwiches, rolls, jelly, chocolate and cake. All the stuff she never usually was allowed to eat, except today was her birthday which meant she got whatever she wanted.

Her parents were sat at her side, the rest of the long table empty. Eagerly she said, "Can we start?" her fingers itching towards the plate of sandwiches. Smiling, her mother captured her hand with her own.

"Not yet," she said.

"Not yet?" Anna moaned, gazing at the food with longing. "What are we waiting for?"

"Your sister's going to join us," said the King.

" _Elsa_?" she said, brow scrunched up.

"Well, you don't have any more sisters, do you?" her mother tried to joke, though it came out flat. Anna glanced up at her parents. She thought they looked unhappy. It made her feel puzzled, and then annoyed.

"Why's _she_ joining us?"

The spite in her voice made the Queen start. "Anna. Don't talk that way about your sister."

Anna crossed her arms, suddenly sullen. "This is my birthday. I never invited her. It's _my_ birthday."

She saw her parents steal a glance. God, they looked so miserable. It was all Elsa's fault. Whenever someone mentioned her, they got so _weird_.

"Did you not want her to come?" her mother said softly.

Anna scrunched her arms up tighter. "I didn't say _that_ ," she said.

"Then what did you mean?" asked her father.

"I don't know!" she exclaimed. Staring out at the food, there was a sour taste in her mouth.

Even when Elsa wasn't here, she ruined everything.

The door creaked open. "Elsa," said the Queen, with false cheeriness. "We were waiting for you." Anna glared resolutely at the napkins.

"…Anna?" said her sister's voice.

Reluctantly, she pulled her eyes away from the tablecloth and looked up. And stared.

Elsa looked a billion times more graceful than she ever could, wearing a lovely blue dress that hinted at her budding figure. So was in no way awkward in her adolescence: she bloomed. And since when had she got so tall? It was like her sister had grown up, and she'd missed it. Anna stared at the stranger across the room.

Elsa smiled shyly, and offered her the present she held, wrapped in a pretty bow. "Happy birthday," she said. "This is for you."

Anna found herself staring at the box, Elsa holding it out for her awkwardly. "You got me a present?"

Her sister's smile faltered slightly. "I got you a present last year too."

"You did?" said Anna.

Elsa's smile vanished, a sea creature back into its shell. "I got you your favourite chocolates. I left them at your door."

"I thought those were from Papa," Anna said. "The groundsman's dog got into the castle again and messed them all up."

The tension was thick enough you could cut it up and serve for dinner. Tightly their mother said, with a fixed smile, "Anna, open your sister's present."

Elsa handed her the box. Anna turned it over, admiring her sister's neat wrapping. She had to admit: she was curious about what was inside.

Very carefully, she undid the bow with a zip of silk. All eyes were on her. Finding the edge of the paper she ran a fingernail underneath and pulled off the tissue paper. Inside was a very nice box. Without even seeing inside she could tell Elsa had put in a lot of effort. She took off the lid and peered inside.

And pulled out the object inside, puzzled.

"It's… a snow globe," she said.

She turned it upside down and shook it. Little pieces of snow fell in gentle flurries upon a castle. She frowned.

"I… I remembered how you used to collect them," Elsa said.

"It's cold!" said Anna, dropping it onto the table with a chink. She looked up at Elsa. "Yeah, I did. When I was eight." She looked over at her parents. What weird expressions on their faces! She guessed they saw what a stupid present it was, too.

"Elsa…" said the King, in a serious tone.

"I— I thought you'd like it," said Elsa. She was biting her lip so hard it'd turned white.

This was the moment when she was supposed to lie, and pretend she thought it was an amazing present. So Elsa didn't feel bad.

Except, this was her birthday. Her day. For once, everything wasn't supposed to revolve around her marvellous sister.

"Well, I don't. It's lame," she said. Elsa gazed at her with wide eyes. "I'm sorry, is that shocking to hear, _your Highness_?" she spat the words like poison, from the hardest part of her heart. "What? Am I supposed to act so happy you've decided to _grace me with your presence_?"

"Anna, I don't understand-…"

"Of course you don't understand. You've never tried!" Anna's cheeks were flushed with rage. She was standing, their parents were standing, the King was telling her to calm down. She didn't care. She picked up the snow globe. "What am I supposed to do with this?" she said. "How is _this_ any good?"

Anna hadn't meant to do what she did. Honestly, she hadn't. But her anger took hold of her, and before she knew what had happened, the snow globe left her hand. It crashed, and shattered into a dozen pieces.

Almost like ice.

It was satisfying, and she gazed up at Elsa with a vindictive smile.

Until she noticed the tears in her sister's eyes. Elsa was _crying_ , she realised. And the smile fell off her face.

A contradiction in her heart: she wanted to hurt Elsa, but to do so hurt her, too.

Hands wrapped round her sides, Elsa turned and ran from from the room. The King went after her.

"Young lady, what is wrong with you?" said the Queen, furious. "You're twelve years old, not five. Why would you do something like that?"

Anna could only shake her head.

Honestly, she didn't know.

* * *

Looking back now, the memory made Anna flush with embarrassment and her insides curl up like a burnt bit of paper. Before Elsa's coronation things were often bad between them, but that day had been the worst.

She laid listlessly in bed, ignoring the sunshine that spilt out through the gaps in the curtain. Gerda had come knocking for her an hour ago, but she'd ignored her.

It'd taken her a long time to get to sleep last night. Thoughts had gone round and round in her head: anger at herself, confusion, more confusion. Eventually her thoughts lost all coherency and spiraled into a mess.

She'd spent the night picking apart what she'd done wrong. What she'd said, and what she'd done at the ball. Had she really been that annoying? She'd starting picking through her memories, and then _that_ memory had rose up to to her throat like vomit.

She'd gone past that comfy, morning stage long ago. Now, her pajamas felt uncomfortable, her bed sheet had come loose, and she wanted a wash. But she was reluctant to face the new day.

Another rap came at her door. "Princess Anna!" Gerda sung. "Princess Anna, are you awake?"

Anna slung the cover over her head. "No," she said. She groaned when she heard the door open anyway. Then, the cover was whisked from off of her.

"Gerda!" she complained, squinting her eyes at the sudden sunlight. Of course, she'd opened the curtains.

"You look awake to me, Princess Anna," the servant said, smiling.

Anna grabbed the cover back from her. "Well, I don't want to be," she said, pulling it back over her head. A second later, it was gone again. "Hey!"

Deftly, Gerda folded the duvet and deposited on the other side of the room. Then she began tidying.

Anna sat up in bed, blinking against the sunlight. "No offence Gerda, but I'd really rather just stay in bed today."

"Wouldn't we all?" said Gerda, gathering several dresses from off the floor under her arm. Then she elaborated: "However, Princess, when you have commitments you must keep to them."

"…Commitments?"

Gerda straightened up and smiled at her. "You said you wanted to join the Queen for her meeting with her small council today, Princess."

"Oh. Oh!" said Anna. "I'd forgotten all about it…"

"I thought you might have," said Gerda, with a sneaky smile.

Anna was aware she was being teased, but, she just wasn't in the mood. And, a meeting with Elsa? That was the last thing she wanted.

_And probably for Elsa too,_ she thought. _All I'll do is annoy her again._

"I think," she said, her voice wobbling slightly, "I don't think Elsa would want me to go. I should probably stay here."

Gerda paused in what she was doing. She set down the laundry, and came and sat down on the bed. She looked at Anna sternly. "Now, what's all this?" she said.

Anna stared at her hands. "We might have… had a bit of an argument."

"A bit?"

Anna smiled against her sadness. "Maybe more than a bit."

"We did wonder what was up with the weather yesterday…" said Gerda wryly, and Anna let out a soft hiccough of laughter. Like that, the floodgates opened, and Gerda gathered her up in her arms. Anna clung to her tightly, grateful, weathering her sorrow like a ship-wrecked sailor to a spar, as Gerda stroked her hair.

When Anna's tears subsided, Gerda demanded, "Tell me what happened."

"It's stupid…" protested Anna.

"It's not, if it's made you feel like this."

So Anna told Gerda what had happened, about the marriage and Jareth and what Elsa said to her. "Of course I realise now it's all my fault," she said. "I showed her up in front of the Spring City. I just said whatever I was thinking without considering the political implications. Of course she was mad at me."

But, Gerda simply looked puzzled. "She said she was only putting up with you, and she wasn't going to do it anymore? Are you sure?"

"Yes... I think so, anyway."

Gerda frowned deeply. "I don't know what happened, but I think you ought to talk to the Queen."

"Talk to her?" Anna spluttered. "After what she said?"

"Because of what she said. Because, in my honest opinion, Princess, that doesn't sound like the Queen Elsa I know."

"I don't know…"

"The Queen adores you, Princess. That's plain for anyone to see." When Anna made a doubtful noise, Gerda cupped her by the cheeks, hard enough to startle her. "Can't you see what's in front of your eyes, young lady? The two of you have got something great. You can't let an _argumen_ t ruin it. Everyone argues sometimes— you should hear the howlers me and Kai have— you just have to make up after. Go talk to her." When Anna made to protest, Gerda interrupted her, "Besides. Sitting here being depressed isn't going to fix anything, is it? So go have a wash while I fetch your breakfast, then I'll comb your hair," she eyed Anna's atrocious bed-head, "and we'll get you ready for your meeting. Yes?"

Anna hesitated, and nodded. "I guess it can't make things worse."

"Yip, yip, then! No time like the present," Gerda said, pushing her towards the bathroom.

"I'm going, I'm going!" Anna said. She couldn't help but laugh.

Perhaps, she thought, Gerda was on to something. Because she'd thought Elsa had hated her once before. And she'd been wrong: there was a reason.

Perhaps, there was a reason this time too. The suspicion still nudged at her: that Elsa was keeping something from her. It was up to her to find out what.

Just as, years ago, she'd carefully picked out Elsa's present from the broken shards of ice she thought were glass. And discovered the castle was a tiny Arendelle, surrounded by the fjord. That in her own bedroom window was a minuscule Anna, with a tiny Elsa by her side.

_To be continued._


	11. when i was sleeping

 

"—And tell that boy the fire needs stoking. This country's too damned cold—" Queen Matilda's dulcet tones carried out into the corridor, where Ada, apologetically, faced Kai. Kai, "the boy" wore his thinnest, most dangerous look of patience.

"If you'd send some coals up, that'd be wonderful," Ada translated.

"I shall see what I can do," Kai said curtly, thrusting the coffee Matilda had sent back four times into Ada's hands.

Ada brought the silverware tray into the parlour room, closing the door with her back. She set it down on the table where Queen Matilda was organising the chess board. Thankless, the old woman picked up the cup of black bitter coffee and took a sip. "Still not strong enough, but it'll have to suffice," she grunted, setting it back with a clatter on the saucer and turning her attention back to the chessboard.

"I could get you a blanket if you're cold, your Grace," said Ada.

Queen Matilda shot her a brief, scathing look. "Don't be an idiot," she said. "Go get me my lighter. And come here."

Dutifully Ada fetched the heavy metal thing and pressed it into Matilda's hand. She snatched it up and lit one of her stinking sour black cigarettes, gesturing with her other hand to the empty chair. "Sit," she said, and Ada sat. "Go on and take your turn."

Ada turned her attention to the chess pieces. She made her move, and Matilda took hers. Studying and considering, Ada said, "I was surprised how easily Queen Elsa acquiesced to our demands."

Matilda took a drag on her cigarette, blowing smoke from her nostrils like a withered old dragon. She chuckled dryly. "Disappointing, isn't it? Always more fun when they kick up a fuss first." She took Ada's pawn, sweeping it from the board with the back of her hand. "My favourite was that Scottish lord. Do you remember? The one that went mad and drowned himself in the loch when you threatened to tell his wife about the affair with his stepdaughter. Hah!" A sharp bark of laughter. "Still, Elsa surprised me. I didn't know what to expect from her. Dirty laundry on her father, perhaps. What you discovered was much more interesting… did you find much out about the sister?"

"She's an interesting girl," said Ada, contemplating her next move.

Matilda grunted. "I mean, anything we can use."

"She's not a virgin," said Ada with a shrug.

Queen Matilda made a noise of disparagement, taking another of Ada's pawns. "Who is these days?" she said. "Is that all you found?"

"I'm afraid, your Grace, she's one of those people you despise…"

"A good person? Tch!" the noise left Matilda in disgust. Ada took her knight. The Queen gazed up at her with narrowed eyes. "You've gotten good at this. Must be due to your teacher. You're a natural at strategy."

"Thank you your Grace."

…But, that didn't mean she enjoyed it.

"How'd Prince Jareth take the news?"

Matilda took a long drink of her bitter coffee. "Jareth will play his part."

"Will you allow Andrew to stay in Arendelle with him?"

"I wouldn't deprive the boy of his perversions. What else is there to live for?" Matilda said. Her sharp bark of a laugh.

Checkmate. Matilda flicked the last of Ada's pieces from the board. "Close. You're getting closer," she said, extinguishing with a hiss her cigarette in the thick, foul coffee. "Now… Cecilia, we ought to do your hair."

Sat on a little child's stool before the dressing mirror, Ada let herself be subjected to her queen's signs and caresses. "Cecilia, your hair's getting long again! We ought to have it cut soon," she said, and, "Your dress is filthy! Have your brothers been pushing you around again? They're nasty, bad boys. You must tell me if they're cruel to you and I'll punish them. I wish they'd be more like you Cecilia. You're my little angel."

As Queen Matilda hummed some old song to her dead daughter, scraping her hair up into tight braids, Ada stared into the mirror, looking back at her own blank eyes.

For seventeen years, she'd been the only person in the world to see her own face.

* * *

Shuffling her papers, Elsa flicked through today's agenda for discussion, wetting her finger to more easily peruse them. When she was done, she set them down on the round oak table. Her small council were arranged around her; the men she relied upon to run Arendelle. Franz sat her side. On the other, Admiral Westerguard, impatient as always, was drumming his fingers on the table. Beside him, Lund, the defence minister slouched, as well as Fredrickson and Erikson, who, respectively, oversaw the treasury and justice in Arendelle.

In the small wood panelled room, the fire crackled cosily in the grate. Out the window, it was overcast.

"Gentlemen. I believe we're all here. Are we ready to begin?"

Nods and noises of agreement and Franz smiled and said, "Whenever you are, your Grace."

"Then I thought we'd begin with discussing the budget for—"

She paused, however, when a knock came at the door.

"Come in," she said.

The door creaked open, and Anna appeared. She looked small, nervous.

Elsa cleared her throat. "Anna, I'm sorry but as you see I'm in a meeting right now—"

"I know," interrupted Anna. "I asked if I could join you. Yesterday." Her sentences short, punctual, awkward.

Yesterday seemed like a long time ago.

"Oh. Right. Please take a seat then."

Elsa perused back through her notes, as though to find her place. But the cursive script in front of her was a blur. She heard the chair scrape back beside her as awfully as if Anna had scratched her nails on a chalkboard. She couldn't look at her, but she felt her presence, a bright light like exploded stars behind her eyes.

Of course she hadn't forgot Anna said she wanted to come. She'd just thought there was no hope in hell she actually still would.

"The budget," she said, more to herself than her council. "I wanted to discuss the budget for the Paegent first. Fredrickson, are we on target?"

Fredrickson, a small man, his hair a cloud of white, face hidden behind oversized spectacles cleared his throat loudly. He shuffled his papers. "Well, your Grace, as I suspected we've had some expenses we didn't anticipate. For example—"

 _Why are you here?_ Elsa thought. In the corner of her eye, she saw Anna's hands on the table, her sister teasing the pink part underneath her nail with her left thumb. _After what I said to you, why would you still come?_

She forced herself back into the moment, as Fredrickson continued, "—However, we're not majorly of-course. Though if we could consider some cut-backs, it would be beneficial. I don't particularly want to bite into next year's budget, which we're liable to do so right now."

"Any suggestions?" asked Elsa.

"Cut back on the prize money for the contests?" suggested Erikson.

"We can't. They've been announced already," said Elsa.

The table threw suggestions around, but none of them were any good. Then Franz leant over and addressed Anna, "You're abnormally quiet, Princess Anna. Do you have any suggestions?"

"Me?" said Anna, sounding baffled she'd been asked, then quietened, as she considered. "Well… there's meant to be a banquet tonight, right? They're always expensive, so maybe we should just have another ball instead? And put out a buffet?"

"A good idea, but we already have another scheduled Princess," said Franz.

"Then make this one a masque ball," said Anna. "I bet everyone would enjoy that."

Noises of agreement from around the table.

"A masque ball…" said Franz. "Why, we haven't had one of those in years."

Fredrickson did some quick calculations on a scrap of paper. "That would bring us back in alignment with the budget," he said.

"An excellent idea, Princess Anna," Franz said, broad smile, hand on Anna's shoulder. She blushed, deeply, under the compliment. And Franz turned his gaze to Elsa. "Queen Elsa, perhaps your sister should join us more often."

She met Anna's gaze for a fraction of a second: it was shy, and Elsa could see the wound she'd left behind. Then Elsa looked away. "Maybe so."

However, as the meeting dragged on, she could feel Anna's interest waning. So much of what they discussed was minutiae, and disconnected to her sister's life. As Admiral Westerguard puffed up and gave his reports of Arendelle's borders, Elsa flicked a quick look at Anna, whose eyes were glazing.

Half way through the meeting, Cressa the maid knocked on the door and Franz held it open so she could come through with a tray of tea. The clock said they'd been here for over an hour. Anna sipped her tea tiredly and asked, "Is there much left?"

"We need to go through our agreements with our trading partners for the coming year and see if we want to make any changes," said Fredrickson. "Then we've the issue of tax, and I believe Lund here wants to discuss Arendelle's defences." The General nodded.

"…Oh," said Anna.

"You're welcome to leave us to it if you'd like Princess," said Franz.

But Anna shook her head, hands cupped round her teacup. "Don't worry about me. I'm fine."

"If you're sure," said Franz. "Then, on to the matter of tax. To pay for the new construction of—"

But, despite Anna's optimistic attitude, she couldn't keep it up.

"—And I'll leave you to choose our new captain of the guard, Lund. Now if—" Elsa was surprised when around her, people started laughing. Fredrickson started chuckling, Franz stifled a laugh behind his hand, and even the admiral smiled. Elsa followed their gaze and turned around to see Anna beside her, slumped in her chair, fast asleep.

"Perhaps…" said Franz, "perhaps this is a sign we're done for today," Franz said, smiling.

"I think you're right," said Elsa. Anna's mouth hung open like an ajar draw in her sleep. It was very cute.

She remained motionless as her small council packed up their things and said their farewells, sipping at her cool tea until she got a mouthful of dregs. She pulled a face and spat them out into the cup, glad no one was around to see. Then she turned round and looked back at her sister, still sleeping.

Her sister, a child of sunshine and fresh air. She didn't belong in these stuffy meetings.

Even in her sleep, Elsa thought she looked sad. There was a downturn to her mouth, a pinch to her eyebrows. She'd never asked Anna what she dreamt about before.

She put the cup back on the saucer with a clatter and stood. "Anna?" she said. "Anna, wake up. The meeting's over."

Her sister didn't stir. Elsa approached, reaching out to shake her by the shoulder.

"Elsa," Anna murmured in her sleep, and Elsa stopped. She looked so beautiful in her sleep. Freckles like stardust. Down of her eyelashes, her pink, adorable lips parted slightly. Head, tilted upwards, a font for a disciple to drink from.

She was seized by an unbearable urge. It would be so easy, to lean down, and while Anna was sleeping… she would never know…

 _Just this once,_ thought Elsa. _It'll be… a goodbye kiss._

Sunshine spilt in through the clouds and into the room as Elsa lent down and joined her lips with Anna's. The softest of kisses. More a butterfly kiss than a real kiss.

She'd only just pulled back when a knock came at the door, and Gerda appeared, holding a ribbon in her hand.

"Anna, you must have dropped this in the hallway—" she started, before she noticed Elsa standing beside her. She curtsied. "Your Grace. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt you. I thought you'd left with the Arch Chancellor."

Elsa's hands curled tightly around her sides, arms pressed hard against her chest. "You don't need to apologise." She nudged her head towards Anna. "Come look."

Gerda moved round, and giggled behind her hand to see Anna sleeping in her chair. "Little lamb. You know, she sleeps the same way she did when she was little girl."

"She still sleep talks, too," said Elsa. She stood back and watched as Gerda fixed Anna's hair with the ease of familiarity. "I don't think she's used to sitting still for so long," she added, by way of explanation.

"I think you'd be surprised," said Gerda, trying the ribbon into a bow at the back of her head. "She's just tired. I don't think she got a lot of sleep last night."

Elsa bit her lip.

"Your Highness, I know it's not my place to say…" Gerda begun.

 _No, it's not._ Anna had always been close to Gerda, the woman taking her in like family after their parents died. She would have done the same with her too, Elsa knew.

If she'd let her.

"Go on Gerda," the words left her like a sigh.

"You should make up with her. She told me about your argument, and I imagine it wasn't as much of a big deal as she thinks…. She's sensitive, your Highness. Things like this hurt her a great deal. Far be it from me to criticise the King, but…"

"Finish your thought. My father's in a place where no criticism will hurt him now," Elsa said softly.

"It's no good for a child to grow up as isolated as she, and yourself, your Grace. There are vital things she hasn't learnt. Like how to resolve an argument with someone you love. She simply doesn't know how. So it's up to you."

"…Maybe I don't know how either."

Gerda smiled. "You just say you're sorry."

…But, wasn't this what she'd decided on? Better to hurt Anna now, than destroy her later, if she discovered the truth.

She was a walking contradiction. She couldn't bear to be with Anna. Yet, being apart was even worse.

_I'm just afraid of losing everything._

"By the way," said Gerda, "Anna told me you've chosen your suitor."

Elsa nodded, tightly. "Yes. I'd appreciate if you could keep it to yourself until the end of the Paegent, though. It's not official till then."

"Of course. Anna said it was a prince from the Spring City. A good match, I think."

Elsa nodded.

"It'll definitely be a change, to have another young man about the place…"

Elsa nodded. Gerda gave up. Smiling wryly, she touched Elsa gently, briefly, on the arm. "If you want to talk, I'm always around," she said.

The words left her throat hoarsely, "Thank you."

Gerda pulled up the door behind her.

_What's wrong with me? I'm doing the same thing as before. I'm running away from my problems because I'm too scared to face them._

_How would ignoring Anna for the rest of my life help anything? I'm not being noble. If I'm being anything it's selfish. You're my little sister. I'm supposed to take care of you. But in the end all I've done is think about my pain._

… _How could I ever think of giving you up?_

She sunk down on the hard wooden flooring by her sister's side.

"I'm so sorry Anna." She pressed her face into Anna's lap, into the soft folds of her dress, warm from the heat of her body. "I didn't mean those things. You know I didn't. I was frightened of myself. You never get in my way. I hate it when you say things like that about yourself, like you're a stupid or a screw-up..." her hands tightened, nails biting into her palms. "Don't you understand that you mean everything to me?"

"Elsa _."_ Her head rose, her eyes meeting her sister's, awake and teary. "You really mean all that?"

"I do," said Elsa.

"So why… why did you say all those things before?"

"Because I'm tired of hurting you.

Anna's brow crinkled. "But _why_?" she asked. Elsa bit down hard on her bottom lip, and Anna cupped her face with her hands. "I don't understand Elsa. Why do you push me away? Haven't we already been through this before?" When she didn't respond and tried to turn her head away, gently Anna pulled her back. Made her look into eyes. "Elsa I want to know you… I want to understand. But you have to let me."

Under her sincere gaze, Elsa squirmed. "I can't," she said.

They were so close Elsa could feel Anna's warm breath on her face. "I have a confession," Anna said, low and breathy. "Earlier, I was only pretending to be asleep."

A stab of ice cold panic, in the pit of her chest. What a fool she'd been. "For how long?" she managed to ask.

"After everyone else left," Anna said.

The secret…

… the one she'd do anything to keep inside her…

… she couldn't know!

Anna frowned in confusion. "You kissed me, Elsa," she said.

Panic, seizing up her body like a rusted clockwork toy. When she tried to pull away, Anna held her fast. It took everything she had to stop the ice crawling up her sister's fingers.

"Why?" Anna asked, but Elsa couldn't speak. "You're doing it again," Anna accused her, "I can see it in your eyes. You're closing me out."

 _What else am I supposed to do?_ she thought helplessly.

"I want to know," Anna demanded. "I have a right to know." To Elsa's silence: "If you hate me then just spit it out—"

"Of course I don't hate you!" Elsa spluttered. "Didn't I just say that?"

"Then why won't you tell me the truth?"

"Because I just can't." Before her sister could speak, Elsa interrupted her, "I won't lie to you Anna. But I can't tell you the truth either."

There was pain in Anna's voice. "Don't you trust me?" It hurt Elsa, too.

"With my life," she said.

"Then why…?"

_Because I don't trust myself with yours._

Elsa slipped from her sister's grip. Anna let her go, watching in confusion and sadness.

"I'm just trying to protect you," Elsa said.

"You told me that one before, too," said Anna.

Yes, she had.

"I'm sorry," she said simply, before she walked away.

**To be continued.**

* * *


	12. i want to meet you

Sitting the soft haven of her mother's lap, Anna gnawed on the string of hard pearls around her neck. Set on the table in front was the Queen's wonderful jewelry box. She watched in fascination as her mother withdrew an emerald green pendant on a tinkling gold chain, dangling it on front of her. She clasped the sparkly thing with chubby fingers.

"This one," her mama said, "your father gave me for my birthday a few years ago… Anna, don't chew on that."

Anna let the pearls drop from her mouth.

"What about that one?" she asked, pointing a finger at a broach.

"That was a wedding present. From… let's see…"

"From Aunt Adrianne?" suggested Anna.

"That's right. You know," her voice was gently teasing now, "I think you might know more about these than me."

Anna beamed. She pointed at the next trinket, asking, "What's that?"

The truth was, she already knew, just as she knew what most of the things in the lovely carved wooden box were. This was a game they often played. Anna loved the shiny pretty things and her mother's gentle fingers, the delicate way she handled them. She liked sitting her her mama's lap and having her all her attention and she listening to her soft voice.

"This one next. This one," Anna said eagerly. Her mother picked up the butterfly choker. This one she handled with even more care.

"Anna, I must have told you this story a dozen times…" she teased her.

"I forgot," Anna said, stubbornly.

"Alright," her mother laughed. She let her hold the choker, and Anna held onto it like a piece of glass, running her thumb along the silver smoothness.

This one was her favourite.

"I wore this choker the night of the masque ball, the first time I ever visited the castle. It was the most exciting night of my life."

"You didn't live here then?" Anna asked. This always confused her.

"Of course not," said her mother. "I lived with my father. At your grandfather's house. You remember it, don't you?"

She did, vaguely. They'd only visited a few times, but Anna could recall the huge lofty house set by the river where she'd dipped her feet in. It was a long, long way away though, and she and Elsa kicked one another the whole way there. The man who lived there was a grumpy man. She didn't like visiting that house, even if that had a river, because afterwards her mother always left crying.

"I wore the most beautiful dress I owned that night. And my mask… ah, I wish I could find it again. It was lovely. It was shaped like butterfly wings. And the castle… it was an enchanted night. I met a man and we danced all night. He was so gallant, and the finest dancer there, that I fell in love with him without even seeing his face. And then, when midnight came…"

This was the best part. Her breath, halted in anticipation.

"He took off his mask, and behind it was the prince of Arendelle! I was so shocked, I spilt my drink all over him. I was so embarrassed, but he thought it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen. He proposed to me there and then, even though he was dripping with wine."

Anna watched her mother's face, her gentle smile and bright eyes, sparkling, as she gazed into her past. Her mama was so beautiful. She hoped that when she grew up, she'd be as pretty as her. And she'd meet a handsome prince and fall in love. They'd have a huge wedding with a thousand sandwiches and piles and piles of chocolate.

She couldn't wait.

* * *

"You found it?" Anna asked.

Gerda set the box down on the bed. "It took a lot of digging, but I'm pretty sure this is it."

Anna's fingers trembled with excitement as she untied the string and opened the box up. But lifting the mask out from the tissue paper wrapping, she couldn't stop the tears welling in her eyes.

A warm hand, pressed against her back. "Anna…"

"It looks exactly like I imagined it would." Gossamer butterfly wings, like silky cobwebs. She could just imagine her mother wearing it. "I've always wanted to see it for myself, but now I…" she wiped quickly at her eyes with a balled hand. "Sorry."

Gerda's hand, rubbing firm circles against her back. "We'll have none of that," she said. She tied on Anna's mask for her, and manoeuvred her in front of her mirror.

"Look how beautiful you are. Your mother would be so proud to see you now."

She blinked away the tears, to see the lovely young woman in the mirror staring back at her. She imagined it was her mother standing beside her.

"I still miss her so much," she said.

"Darling, of course you do…"

How easy it was, frighteningly so, to blink, and in an instant see everything you held dear vanish.

Hands tightened against her gown. Her whitening knuckles. Angrily, she wiped her tears away form under the mask. She wouldn't be left alone again.

She refused to lose anything else.

* * *

Vulnerability exposed like the soft inside petals of fresh-cut flowers, Elsa faced her own pale naked reflection. Hand pressed against her cool skin, above a raw heart. Tonight, she didn't want to be a queen, or Anna's sister, or even Elsa.

She struggled into unfamiliar white trousers, finding the right holes for her legs to go through. Over a men's shirt she pulled on a jacket that once belonged to her father and had been tailored to her size. She'd never once seen him wear it. It was old-fashioned ceremonial thing: gold epaulets, sash, jewelled clasp at her neck.

Letting her hair loose, she tied the cords of her mask tight, white and gilded gold, to match her outfit.

She looked through the eye holes at the stranger in the mirror, pulling on a pair of gloves. She didn't recognise the youth looking back.

It was a relief.

* * *

Gerda escorted Anna to the ballroom. But when they reached the double doors, Anna stopped.

"If you go in with me, it's going to be obvious who I am," she pointed out.

"Very well." But still she hovered however, concern in the crease between her brows. "Princess, will you be alright?"

So Gerda could feel it too. The sizzling of her restless blood: the urge to do something wild, mad, reckless.

"I'm going to find Elsa," was all she said.

"She'll be masked too."

"I'll find her," she said, as she pushed open the door and waded into the sea of masked faces.

* * *

For the first time in a large social situation, Elsa felt comfortable. Her clothes felt unfamiliar and strange. But, how wonderful it was to walk through a crowd without drawing every single eye. Nobody was paying her much attention at all.

Apart from three young women, huddled close together, throwing her glances.

Still, she didn't actually expect one young lady, a scrap of lace across her eyes, to approach and ask her for a dance. A complete breach of etiquette, for a lady to ask a gentleman.

Another thing she didn't expect: that she would say yes.

An ocean of masks surrounding her. Outrageous, even garish costumes. Men with fox faces. Bears. A bevy full of swans. Elsa falls into a kind of dream. With identity, all good custom out of the window. A kind of liberation. Kid-white gloves, she clasps her partner's waist and whirls her round. Twirling, bunching silk. The lady's friend approaches her. Jester's face, bells jingling, she murmurs into her ear, "My betrothed has no idea who I am."

Elsa dances the night away, one partner to the next. But all the time, peering through her partners eye-holes for a slice of green. Longing in her heart. Looking over a shoulder for familiar fiery hair. A want so strong it burns. Pressing her hand to her chest, fearful of being charred to ash. She grips her partner tighter.

* * *

Staring over the young man's shoulder, Anna's eyes scour the ball-room.

 _You seem distracted, Miss,_ he says, but she doesn't listen.

The summons of her restless blood. Gazing into the crowd, searching for you. She wants for something.

_May I have this dance?_

The stranger puts his hand on her waist. She makes the steps she'd learnt by rote, unfeeling. Surrounded by false faces, feeling so lonely she could die.

She's a child again, afraid of the loneliness that eats away at her like the fear of monsters under the bed. Screaming in her heart: _Don't leave me! Don't abandon me! Don't leave me by myself!_

And her eyes move up to notice the slight rise of her partner's breast. _You're…_

Though the man's eye holes she sees them: ice blue eyes. Hands tighten on his sleeves.

"Elsa!" she chokes in relief.

"Ladies and gentlemen. The time is now midnight," announced Kai. It brought her back to herself. "Please remove your masks."

She reached behind her head to untie her mask, Elsa doing the same. Except, it wasn't Elsa at all, but—

"Ada?" she asked, baffled. How bizzare. She'd never seen the resemblance between her sister and the seer before.

With an odd smile, Ada nudged her head towards the door. "If you're looking for the Queen, I saw her go out onto the balcony not long ago."

* * *

Still masked, Elsa sat out on the balcony, fauna barren, staring into the dark. The white knucklebone moon.

She was startled when the door cracked open and a lost young woman in an antique smoke gown and butterfly mask appeared.

"The party is back in the—" she started, before something made her pause.

"…Elsa?" the girl enquired.

A beat, and, "Anna?"

She removed the mask, and her sister emerged, smiling at her wryly.

"How stupid. Bits of cardboard and enamel and we can't even recognise one another," Anna said, approaching to slip up next to her on the wooden fence.

"You said it," said Elsa, mask in her lap. Part of said she should make an excuse and leave. She didn't listen.

Elsa stole a glance at her. Her sister was staring at the raw white moon, sitting on her fingers. She turned her head towards her, her eyes wandering down her outfit. "You look very dashing, by the way."

A small smile. "Handsome?"

A definite nod. Laughing eyes. "Most definitely. With that long blond hair, you look like a member of the old French court." Anna's fingers brushed a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. Elsa couldn't help herself. She leaned into her touch.

"I was looking for you all night," Anna murmured.

"Me too," admitted Elsa.

"We keep… just brushing past one another, don't we?" said Anna.

_Never meeting._

Her eyes snagged on the vivid colour of Anna's mask. And it occurred to her: "That mask… it's…"

"It belonged to Mother," Anna said. "Gerda found it. It's lovely, isn't it?"

Fine as it was, Elsa could feel no admiration looking at the mask. Only a deep cutting sadness, like the bite of icy water.

"It is," she said.

"Try it on," Anna said. When she saw her hesitance, she added, "Please. I want to see what you look like."

Reluctantly, she took the mask. In her eagerness to help, Anna lent over her to tie it behind her head, warm breath at her neck.

"Oh, geez, wow," she said, as she settled back. "Just like I thought."

"Just like you thought what?" Anna was gazing at her in such a way that a shiver ran through her. She, who never shivered at the cold.

"You look just like her, just like I imagined it," Anna breathed.

Elsa didn't need to ask who _her_ was. She'd seen the resemblance herself, growing day by day as she grew up. It was almost unnerving.

After her parents died, she couldn't stand it. There was a time where she'd covered over all of her mirrors in her room to escape her mother, staring mournfully at her out of her own reflection.

"I…"

Anna put a hand on her knee. "Are… we still fighting?" she asked.

They were sat so close their thighs touched. Elsa shook her head. "I don't know," she said. And again, "I don't know."

What little will-power she had.

"Elsa… can I tell you what I'm thinking?"

How formal. It made her mouth quirk a little. "Go ahead," said Elsa.

"I don't want you to get married. The thought of you with some guy you don't love makes my skin crawl. I can't stand it." She without hesitation, so boldly that Elsa started.

"Anna—" she begun to protest.

"But—" Anna interrupted her, "lately, I've been thinking about why I feel that way. And I realised I'm a selfish person. I want you all to myself. I don't want to share. I've only really just got you back. The thought of giving you away to someone else… it's unforgivable. Because the last few weeks have made me realise I don't really know you. Not as well as I thought I did, anyway… And that… it scares me. I don't know why it does, but I…"

A hitch in her voice. Elsa stared hard at the mask in her lap, her pale fingers. She had to.

Anna's hands closed over hers like an oyster. Elsa's eyes darted up. They were sat so close. Anna was so close. She could count the freckles on her nose.

"I want to meet you," she said, before she closed the distance.

A kiss, Elsa realised, as though from underwater. Anna was kissing her. A barrage of thoughts: _what? a_ nd _why?_ and _push her away. Laugh. Go. Leave._

Before they were drowned out by the crashing waterfall in her ears. Anna's lips were so soft. Elsa's chest, warm, syrupy honey. She kissed her back, gathering her up in her arms, warm skin and gossamer gown, fingers crushing frost-bitten silk. They bumped noses and Elsa pulled back, laugh a burble of liquid gold.

Anna's eyes flashed open, wide and bright and shining.

**To be continued.**


	13. i won't let you go

Anna kissed her sister because she hadn't known what else to do. Elsa had clammed up again, sealed herself shut like a shell-fish and refused to let her in. She'd kissed her because Elsa had kissed _her_ when she was sleeping, and she wouldn't tell her why.

And she'd kissed her because she'd thought, _Hell, how could it make anything worse?_

She'd expected to be shoved off. She certainly didn't expect the response she got.

Elsa kissed her back. And not just that: she kissed her with vigour. Elsa pulled her into her, knocking all the breath from Anna's chest. Frosty fingers clasped, hard, at her sleeves, ice creeping into the gauze. A kind of _need_ she'd never sensed from her sister before. The lips on hers were clumsy and desperate. Kristoff was too much of a gentleman: he'd never kissed her like _this_ before.

When they knocked noses and Anna drew back, giggling, she felt baffled, frosty and inexplicably elated.

Elsa was beaming, too. Not since the great thaw had Anna seen her smile so. But then her hands came up to cover her mouth.

"I kissed you," she said. "I really kissed you."

Still laughing, Anna pointed out, "I think you'll find I kissed _you_."

In mounting dismay, Anna saw it. The growing fear clouding Elsa's eyes as she began to slip away. The smile fell; she raised her hands from her mouth to shield her eyes. "No, no, _no_ —" she said.

"Elsa?" Anna said, sad and confused, reaching to take Elsa's hands from her face. She flinched back when ice encased her fingertips.

"This isn't the way things are supposed to go. You're not supposed to be doing this," Elsa said. Whether she was talking to her or about herself, Anna didn't know.

"Elsa, I don't understand," she said, picking the ice from her fingers with a wince. But she might as well have been talking to a stone. In increasing aggravation she said, "You could at least _look_ at me."

Elsa dropped her hands. Her eyes no longer held their usual gleam. They were dull, matt with a heavy weariness.

"There's no use hiding it. I suppose now it must be obvious," she said. Something frightening stirred in her eyes. Her voice was rough, low with that strange emotion: "How much I want you."

"You… what?"

Anna watched Elsa grip her own forearm with her opposite hand, as if to hold herself together. "I love you Anna," she said.

She still wasn't entirely sure she understood. "You mean, like…" she started, hesitating.

"Like mother loved father."

"Oh." Of all the things Anna expected, this wasn't one of them. It was true she'd heard rumours of girls who loved girls and men who took other men like wives, but a sibling? Was that even really possible? "Since," she asked, "since when?"

"For a long time," replied Elsa, staring at a patch of sky. She looked so unhappy Anna couldn't stand it. Instinctively she reached towards her. But Elsa flinched away.

"Please Anna. Don't."

 _This has to be all a big joke,_ Anna thought. But as soon as she thought it, she knew Elsa would never joke about something as serious as this.

An awkward silence stretched on between them. Anna thought about how Elsa had been distancing herself for the past few months. Even before that, the lengths Elsa went to to protect her, locking herself away to keep her safe. And Anna realised: she'd never stopped.

She knew she should feel terribly shocked by the revelation Elsa had given her. But she didn't. Though she felt baffled and unsure what it all meant, she felt…

_Happy. I'm happy._

No matter how many times Elsa assured her she didn't hate her, there was part of Anna— born from the years where she thought her sister despised her— that still feared it was true. But Elsa didn't hate her. She loved her. And more than anybody else. She really really loved her!

"If you're disgusted, I'll understand. That would be a reasonable reaction," Elsa said quietly. "And if you don't want to see me anymore, that's fine too. I can stay out of your way from now on. That's fine."

In response, Anna hugged her. Fuelled by a sudden rush of anger, she grabbed Elsa and pulled her to her, embraced her hard. When Elsa tried to pull away, she held on tighter. The ice that wound its way into her hair and bit into her skin, she ignored. She embraced her harder.

"I thought you were supposed to be the smart one Elsa. But my God, you're such a… a…" she spat the word: "a moron! If you really love me, how can you say those things? That it's fine if I ignore you, or never talk to you again? That's not fine at all!"

"Anna, my powers—" Elsa said, voice rising in anxiety. "Let go of me. I'm hurting you."

Anna bit down the pain as ice crackled across her cheek. She burrowed her face further into the crook of Elsa's neck. "It doesn't hurt," she said.

"Anna, please—" Elsa's voice left her in a helpless sob.

"I _won't_ let you go," Anna said.

_I won't be alone anymore. I refuse._

The frost crackled across her scalp, freezing her hair in icy stalactites. She felt Elsa pushing desperately against her, but then, she stopped being able to feel much anything. As her consciousness slipped away, she heard her sister shouting her name.

* * *

With one huge shove, ice shattering, Elsa thrust her frozen sister from her in a shower of frosty splinters. Anna slipped to the ground, her skin covered in a layer of white frost, her lips blue.

Panic rose in Elsa's throat like vomit. Staring at her hands, she backed away from Anna, from what she'd done.

She ran. Flinging open the doors, floorboards frozen solid in her wake, scream rending through the castle: " _Help! It's Anna— it's my sister! Some please, help_!"

* * *

In Anna's bedroom, the fire in the grate was stacked up as high as possible. The room was hot, stifling, uncomfortable, in half because of the young queen, sat hunched by her sister's bedside. For the last few hours, she hadn't said a word.

Gerda fluffed Anna's pillow, gently lifting her head to slot it back underneath the unconscious princess. Anna's lips were blue, the colour gone from her face. She was swaddled in half a dozen blankets, her extremities bandaged from her frostbite.

Gerda glanced to the window to see the lightening sky, the stars blinking out. She looked back to the Queen. Let alone speak, for hours she hadn't moved. She looked haunted.

Gerda cleared her throat, the sound uncomfortably loud in the silence. "Your Majesty… forgive me, I still can't understand how this happened. Since you thawed Arendelle, you've always seemed to have such a good grip on your powers."

Elsa was quiet for such a long time Gerda thought she would once again ignore her. At last however she spoke, "My father was right after all. These powers aren't a gift. They're a curse."

"Your Majesty, she'll be okay," Gerda said gently, "some sleep, a nice bit of bed rest and she'll be right as rain soon."

"This time, perhaps," Elsa said. Her eyes, rimmed with black shadows rose to meet hers. "But what about next time? How many times have I hurt her already? She's in mortal peril, just by being by my side."

"You know Anna would never feel that way, your Majesty…"

Elsa shook her head. "All her life, all I've given her is pain."

"Oh, Elsa…" she reached out to touch the Queen's back with a comforting hand.

"Please, don't," said Elsa. "The last thing I want is to hurt someone else."

Gerda let her hand drop. There was a calm resolution in Elsa's eyes that worried her deeply, the young queen gazing far away, far further than Arendelle's scenery.

"I understand what I have to do now," she said.

**To be continued.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- This is what I find most endearing about Anna's character. In a lot of ways, she's your typical adorkable Disney heroine, but what I really like about her is the way she will never, never, ever give up on the people she loves. Even if that means being frozen into a popsicle (multiple times). And of course Elsa too, in her own misguided martyred way, does everything to protect Anna. And despite that (or because of that?) they still can't connect.
> 
> Ahhh, I just love them!
> 
> Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks for all your comments. Stay tuned for more!


	14. however many times it takes

When Anna woke, feeling stiff but warm and cosy as toast, she felt someone holding her hand.

 _Elsa,_ she thought, with a rush of warm, bubbly happiness.

But when she opened her eyes and turned her head, it was Kristoff she found by her bedside.

"Heya sleepy-head," he said gently. She felt his warm calloused thumb moving over the soft skin of her palm. "Good to see you back in the land of the living."

"Kristoff…?" With one hand she pushed herself off the bed. "I thought you'd gone ice harvesting."

"I did. And I came back," he said.

Anna's eyes burrowed together in confusion. "But, that was…" she begun.

"You've been out of it for a while," Kristoff explained.

Anna looked to her window. The sun was orange, low in the sky. Almost sunset. "A whole day?" she gasped.

"More like five," said Kristoff.

Anna flung herself forward, bolt upright. "You're kidding!"

"You had a bad fever," he said. "Everyone… was really worried."

By everyone, he meant himself, too. Anna could see it in his eyes. Guilt rolled uncomfortably in her stomach. Kristoff must have only came back because she was hurt. It couldn't be easy for him to be here.

"Five days…" she said, before it occurred to her: "The winter paegent!" she exclaimed, hands flying to her mouth.

"—Is over. There a few people here still, but most have gone home already," Kristoff said with a shrug.

 _But, Elsa! Did she announce her engagement to that prince? What bad timing to be asleep,_ she thought.

"Did… did Elsa…" she began.

Kristoff's eyes softened. "She was worried sick about you, you know. Kai said she sat with you for three days straight until the Arch Chancellor forced her to go to bed."

"Oh…" _Elsa…_

"She said she hurt you with her powers, but I still don't get why," Kristoff said, looking at her curiously.

"I, um, hugged her. She told me to let go of her, but I… I guess I wanted to prove she wouldn't hurt me."

"Oh."

Yes, _oh_. Why _had_ this happened?

 _Elsa's powers play up when she's unsure or frightened,_ she thought. And Elsa was frightened. But what of? Of her? Of herself? The way she acted it was as though she'd wanted Anna to despise her.

Which literally made zero sense.

"Where is she anyway?" Anna asked. She still couldn't swallow the disappointment she felt that it hadn't been her sister she'd found by her side.

It was about time they talked, properly. Elsa could turn her into an ice cube as many times as she wanted, but this time she wasn't about to let her run away.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed with a wince; her toes felt stiff and painful. "Is she sleeping?"

Kristoff responded with silence. That's when Anna started to realise something was wrong.

"Kristoff?" she asked, voice rising sharply.

"I didn't want to tell you so soon after you woke up," he said.

"Tell me what?"

"Ah, geez Anna. Alright. She's not here," said Kristoff.

"What do you mean she's not here?"

"I mean she's not here. At the end of the Paegent she announced she was going to marry this prince from the Spring City. And then out of the blue she said they were going to have the wedding there instead of in Arendelle and she just up and left."

"Up and left?" exclaimed Anna. "What do you mean she up and left? Elsa wouldn't just leave."

"Well, she did," said Kristoff, taciturn as ever. "When the rest of the people from the Spring City left she went with them, just yesterday."

"But…" _But why didn't she wait until I woke up? If she was really that worried about me, why did she leave me?_

Kristoff must have seen how unhappy she looked, because he said, "I tried to talk her out of it. So did a bunch of others. But I don't think she listened to a word I said."

Anna shook her head. "It just doesn't seem like her to do something as sudden as this. Everyone in Arendelle was looking forward to a royal wedding. She wouldn't let everyone down like that."

"Well she has and it's happened. The real question now is _why_."

Kristoff was looking at her as though she knew the answer. But what did she know? All that Elsa's confession had done was confirm that Anna didn't even know her sister. She loved her? Had always loved her? And, for all these years, without Anna even noticing?

The part of that that was happy at Elsa's confession was quickly being extinguished. Her finger clenched around the bed covers. They hurt.

With a click, the door cracked open and Gerda peeked in.

"Oh, Anna, you're awake!" She bustled into the room, fussing with Anna and feeling her forehead. "We were so worried about you, darling. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," said Anna moodily.

"I told her about Queen Elsa," Kristoff explained.

"Oh, sweetie…"

"I just don't understand why she would do this to me. Why she would leave me." Humiliatingly, tears tried to well in her eyes. Quickly she swept them away with the back of her forearm. She was aware she was being dramatic and childish, but she couldn't help herself.

"I'm sure the Queen had Her reasons…"

"Like what?" Anna demanded.

From the front of her dress, Gerda withdrew a letter, sealed with Elsa's snowflake. "Maybe this will help shed some light. The Queen left this for you. She asked me to give it to you when you woke up." She handed it to Anna, and quickly she tore it open and began to read.

**Anna,**

**By the time you read this, I'll have already left for the Valleylands and the Spring City. I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye.**

**I'm sure, in your condition that you understand why . I need time to think, and space to control my powers.**

**Please try and forget all those things I told you.**

**I'll be back in Arendelle by the next full moon.**

**Elsa.**

The note took Anna not even a minute to read. She stared hard at the paper, as though she might be able to coerce it into spilling its secrets. But it was short and curt, and gave away nothing of what Elsa was really thinking.

"Anna dear…" said Gerda. Anna glanced up at her, distracted. "I know you don't want to be thinking about this now, but the small-council needs to speak with you. Elsa left so abruptly that everything's in disarray."

"They need to see me?" said Anna, jolting up straight.

"Who else is there?" said Gerda.

* * *

The small-council was in an uproar. Papers flung across the table, Franz and the Admiral stood opposite sides of the table, shouting.

This was the scene Anna opened the door to find.

"Uh," she said.

The men paused, flushed red with anger, staring at her.

She felt very small, and very much out of her comfort. This was Elsa's domain; not hers.

"Princess Anna," Franz breathed with relief, palming back his dishevelled, receding hair. "I'm happy to see you awake and well."

Erikson drew a chair for her. Hesitating a moment, she took it.

"Princess, I take it you're aware of the situation," Lund, the defence minister said.

"I am."

He pushed across a document to her. "Elsa left this behind, naming Franz co-regent in the temporary time she'll be abroad."

"Co-regent?" asked Anna, picking up the document. "Who's—"

She read:

_**—in my absence I name Franz Østergaard co-regent, as well as my sister HRH Princess Anna—** _

"No way!" exclaimed Anna. "What do I know about ruling Arendelle?"

Franz coughed. "Before Elsa left, she said she thought it would be beneficial to give you some experience in handling Arendelle's affairs."

Her? Rule? Hah! What a joke. Anna slid the document back over the table silently.

 _She says that I must get why she's doing this… but the truth is I still don't understand. I don't know what she's thinking or trying to achieve,_ she thought.

_And in truth, I don't think she knows, either. She's just trying to run away again. She thinks she can keep me busy here with this regent stuff so I won't go after her._

_But she's wrong._

"I'm leaving for the Valleylands," said Anna. "I need to talk to Elsa."

She held her breath. She expected dissent, being told she must do as the Queen degreed, but instead she saw Lund nodding.

"I too think this behaviour is atypical for Queen Elsa," he said, at her questioning look. "And I have to admit, I'm worried. I don't trust the Spring City, nor its Queen."

"That southern witch," growled the Admiral.

"Are you talking about Prince Jareth's grandmother?" Anna asked, thinking about the tiny old woman.

"These are all rumours," Franz said, splaying his hands in exasperation. "Princess, please take Lund and Admiral Westerguard with the pinch of salt they're due."

But Anna asked: "What rumours?"

"The more I hear about her, the more I distrust her," the Admiral said, angry eyes flashing.

"I've heard it said that she can look into your eyes and expose your inmost weaknesses…mere rhetoric, I'm sure," said Erikkson.

"That said, for such a small country, they know too much," added Lund. "I've bought and traded intelligence with them more than once. It's always confused me where they get their knowledge from. It's possible they have a very strong spy network, but at the same time…"

"It came up in discussion when I spoke with Normark's secretary general," said Fredderickson. "For a country whose economy is based around agriculture, their annual input is abnormally high."

"Rumours. Just rumours," Franz tried to say, before he was drowned out once more.

"Perhaps they are. But what worries me…" Lund said, "is that for some time now they've disallowed any foreign ships from entering their waters. I really didn't expect them to reply to our invitation, since no non-nationals have been allowed into the Spring City for almost half a year. They've been downright unfriendly to their allies. It's suspicious."

"So what you're saying is…" butted in Anna, who was only just managing to keep up, "is that there's something fishy going on there?"

"Most definitely," said Lund, removing his glasses to wipe them with his sleeve.

"Well then," said Anna, "we better hurry up and fetch her back then."

All eyes were on her. But she was feeling confident, now.

The Admiral stood, sweeping his hand into a salute. "Princess, my finest vessel is at your disposal.

Frederickson reached for a bit of paper and started scrawling. "I'll prepare your papers right away."

"Anna…" Franz looked at her with understanding eyes, that she flinched under. "You're going to have to let her go one day, you know that, don't you? Elsa needs to marry. If not Prince Jareth, then someone else."

"I know that," said Anna. _I know that, but…_

"You may have trouble getting into the capital, if the Spring City are still enforcing their ban on foreign traffic," Lund warned her.

"If they are, we'll find another way," said Anna. She didn't feel afraid. She'd done it before and she'd do it again. As many times it took, she'd bring Elsa home.

**To be continued.**


	15. the seer's warning

As Jareth offered Elsa his hand and she stepped from the boat, her senses were invaded by the scents of jasmine and honeysuckle.

"It is _good_ to be home!" Jareth exclaimed, stretching like a cat.

She'd heard the rumours about the Spring City of course. But hearing was one thing, seeing another.

It was mid-october, and the trees were in blossom. She recognised the pink and white blooms of apple and pear trees. Barrels at the edge of the docks were stuffed full of bright tulips. The wind which in Arendelle held a brisk bite, was pleasantly warm. The sun was shining.

A crowd stood waiting for them. They broke into cheers at her and Jareth's arrival, clasping bunches of daffodils and crocuses. A guard admitted forward a little girl, chain of daisies in her bright hair.

"Welcome Queen Elsa!" she squeaked with nervousness and excitement, thrusting the flowers at her. "Congratulations on your wedding."

Elsa knelt down to take the pretty purple crocuses from her. "What's your name?" she asked.

"Um… it's Brita, your highness," said the little girl, hiding behind her sleeves.

"Thank you Brita. They're very pretty."

The girl beamed, and the guard put his hand on her back and steered her back into the crowd. Elsa stood, looking upon the town. Flags with the Spring City's insignia, the sun and tulip, were flying. The wooden houses were garlanded with flowers.

"Is this all for the wedding?" she asked Jareth.

"And to welcome home Grandmother," he said. As he spoke Matilda appeared in the gang walk, and the people cheered ten times as loudly as they had for her.

"They really love her," said Elsa.

"Well of course," said Jareth, as though it were obvious.

"All this ruckus," grumbled Matilda, tiny as she shuffled past with her long entourage tailing her like a wedding trail. "Let's get back to the palace. I'm sick of all this sea air." A gilded carriage sat waiting for them, and her servant helped her up into it.

Jareth gave her a hand up, and Elsa settled into the cushioned seat beside him. She gazed out at the streets; the cheering people; the falling petals.

"I don't understand," said Elsa. "It's like this city is in entirely different season. How is this possible?"

"A blessing," said Jareth. Elsa inclined her whole body round to face him. He looked sincere.

"A _blessing_?" she said.

"Our country's been blessed by the heavens. This is God's gift to us," said Jareth.

God's gift? He had to be kidding. Elsa glanced to Queen Matilda, who said nothing, and smiled to herself as she drummed her fingers on her thigh.

"You don't know how glad I am you took up on our invitation to hold the wedding here," Jareth chirped suddenly. "There's so much you need to see. The Palace gardens. The great hall. And ah, the fashion. No offence to your people, but here in the Spring City we know how to dress. What a spectacle our wedding will be!"

As Jareth went on, Elsa let her attention loose like a kite on a string.

Not for the first time, she wondered if she'd made the correct choice coming here. This city was strange. There was no way this weather was natural. And she'd believe it was God's gift as soon as she believed Queen Matilda invited her here for tea and biscuits. She herself was an enigma. Queen Matilda: blackmailer and beloved.

Elsa reminded herself: _I'm here for Anna._

* * *

That evening; wine and merriment. The Spring court was famous for its frivolousness, and tonight Elsa learnt it lived up to its name. She perched on the end of a plump, sumptuous couch, clasping hard the glass she'd yet to take a sip from. Jareth had just left her to use the restroom. On a raised dais a beautiful girl with golden hair like water played the lyre. From the other end of the room she could hear the laughter wrought by the troupe of tumbling buffoons. The food was never-ending. Women wore peacock feathers in their hair and laughed aloud and kicked off their shoes to dance.

Elsa stole a glance to where Queen Matilda sat, Ada by her side, with several other attendants. As she looked however, Ada caught her eye and rose. Without asking permission she sat by her side.

"Queen Elsa," she said. "What do you think to our city?"

"It's… lovely," admitted Elsa. _It doesn't make any sense, either._

She looked over at Ada, which was a mistake. Looking at her hurt; for whatever reason, she looked more like Anna than ever now. The freckles on her nose were the ones she'd seen a million times; the ones she'd dreamed of kissing. She wore a low cut fitting gown that was the fashion here, showing swathes of creamy, freckled skin.

"I'm glad you're enjoying the sights, your Majesty," Ada said, dropping her voice to an almost seductive murmur.

Elsa started and quickly glanced away, flushing. She heard Ada laugh.

"Tell me…" she said, "would you like to see your sister wearing something like this?"

Elsa gripped her glass harder.

"If you particularly like this one, you can have it. The Queen will order me a dozen more like it. Take it home as a wedding present. Have her try it on for you. Have her do a little twirl?"

" _Enough_ ," Elsa said. "If you've come to mock me, leave."

Ada giggled into her hand. "Forgive me. It's so easy, I just can't help myself you see."

Elsa couldn't help but think she didn't seem particularly contrite. She looked across the room and ignored her.

"You've been holding that self same glass all night. Don't you drink?" Ada asked.

"I prefer to keep a clear head."

"How disciplined. But since you've already walked into Queen Matilda's trap, you might as well let loose and relax you know."

"Trap?"

"You're an intelligent woman Elsa. Don't play dumb. It doesn't suit you."

Back in Arendelle, after she'd announced her intentions, she'd returned back to her bedroom to find Ada waiting for her in the dark.

" _I'll only warn you one more time,"_ she'd said. " _Don't do what she wants."_

Her reply to her now was the same as it was then. "I won't let my family's name— and Anna's— be slandered," she said firmly.

As a servant passed with his tray of drinks, Ada plucked one from him. She downed it in one. "I've met a lot of fools, but I think you top them all Queen Elsa. Maybe that's why I like you."

"You like me?" Elsa said. She laughed dryly. "You sold my secrets to your queen. What do you do to people you _don't_ like?"

The mirth was gone from Ada now. She set down her glass. "I owe Queen Matilda a great debt. It's not always one I repay willingly. However, it's one I will repay. You really want me to help you? Then listen closely." She inclined her head to where Queen Matilda sat with her companions. "The dark hair. In the bun." Elsa's eyes found a large heavy-set woman, dressed elegantly and in good taste, perhaps in her thirties. "Don't stare," Ada warned her, and Elsa glanced away. "That's Ilia. Pay close attention to her. Beside her, the man. That's Khublan. Be wary of him." His skin was dark and polished and beautiful. He stood erect by Matilda's side. "The boy, he's Angus. I know he's young, but don't write him off either." Still in his teens, the boy was gangly, fire-headed and freckled.

Elsa glanced to her. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I want you to open your eyes," said Ada. She stood, brushing the wrinkles from the front of her gown. "Nothing in this city is what it seems, Elsa. Be careful."

Elsa watched her leave. Then she shrugged, and took a drink.

* * *

**To be continued.**


	16. heartstorm

For all her bravado, Anna forgot in all her grand announcement to go to the Spring City one thing: that to get there, she'd need to step on a boat.

"Princess, we're ready to push off!" called the Captain from aboard the ship. Gleaming prow and polished to perfection, she cut through the water like a dolphin, and as such that was her name. She sat by the dock, fully stocked, crew on standby. They only awaited one last thing.

Anna crouched on the dockside, rooting aimlessly through her luggage. "Just— just one more minute!" she called, voice rising sharply.

She heard someone thumping over the gang walk to her. "I just need— a few more minutes," she said, looking up in a panic to see—

Kristoff. Gazing down at her, puzzled. "Are you alright?" he asked. "Captain and the Admiral want to set off."

"I know. But, uhm," —rummaging more frantically through her things— "I think I've forgotten something. So I better go back to the castle to get it."

"Is it important?"

"Well it's my, um— you know—"

"I do?" asked Kristoff.

"—very important, uh, doo-hicky. You know, that—"

"Doo-hicky?" he asked, eyebrows in his hair.

"— _you know_ ," she said more insistently, "the _thingamabob_. The one that, uh…" she trailed away hopelessly.

A long silence.

"You don't know what you're talking about, do you?" said Kristoff, with a small smirk.

"Of course I do!" she huffed. She stood, hands on her hips.

"Then what is it?" he said.

"Um…"

She felt him considering her for a moment. She stared at her shoes. Her face felt beet red.

"Wait a minute. You're not _scared_ , are you?" She heard the disbelief in his voice.

"What?" she exclaimed. "No way! What's so frightening about a bit of water… and waves ten foot tall… and," her voice wobbled dangerously, "sailing on a piece of wood, and… no, no, _no_ —" Anna found herself sinking down, clinging on hard to her suitcase, and dry land, for dear life. She squeezed her eyes closed.

"There's really nothing to scared of," Kristoff said. He still sounded surprised, his voice closer as he crouched down beside her. "I've been talking to the Captain. This ship isn't going to be blown over by a little gust of wind. They build them sturdy as them come round here."

"Oh yeah? That didn't help my mother and father, did it?" she said. Silence, Anna squeezing her eyes more tightly closed.

 _I don't want to go,_ she thought. _They can't make me go._

She felt a warm hand, pressed against her shoulder. "Anna, if you really don't want to do this… I could go instead," Kristoff said.

"What?" Her eyes snapped open. "You're saying I should give up, just because I'm s-scared?" She rose to feet and grabbed her suitcase. "I'm getting on that boat. You just watch me, Mr Bjorgman." In bold lengthy strides she stepped up and onto the gang-walk.

She made the mistake of looking down. Below, in between the wooden slats, the water writhed and foamed against the dockside. Her stomach dropped. She felt light-headed. She stopped dead.

"It'll help if you don't look down," called Kristoff.

"R-right. Thanks." Slowly, she tore her eyes from the ground and fixed them at a spot on the mast. She tried to imagine she wasn't standing on the gang-walk, but standing on dry land. In the castle, down her corridor, past Elsa's bedroom.

 _Elsa._ She was doing this for her.

It was somewhere between a huge step and a leap. Anna launched herself forward, slipped, and landed hard in the ship, cheek against the wooden boards.

"I… I did it!" she exclaimed, chest full of exaltation. "I am on a _boat_!"

Behind her, she could hear Kristoff dying from laughter.

"Are we ready to weigh anchor, your Highness?" the Captain asked. Anna pushed herself up to see him trying very, very hard to keep a straight face.

"Uh…" she said. She felt ill again. Quickly, she rose to her feet. "Actually, I think there was something I forgot at the castle—"

"This way," Kristoff said. He led her into the cabin, firm hand on her back, where he pulled the door closed. She sat down, unsteadily.

"See? Now it's just like you're home," said Kristoff. Grabbing an old cloth, he covered the porthole. "Curtains and everything. Cosy, right?"

Outside, she could hear the sailors calling to cast off. The gentle rocking of the boat became more noticeable.

Little by little, Kristoff's face turned green.

"Uh… have you ever sailed on the ocean before, Kristoff?" Anna asked.

Kristoff shook his head, before he clamped a hand to his mouth and slamming through the cabin door fled onto the deck.

* * *

Gingerly, Anna approached Kristoff from behind. He was at his favourite spot on the ship: leaning off the side. She put a hand on his broad shoulder.

"I've been talking with the Captain. He says you won't feel so bad if you stand in the middle of the ship. It doesn't rock as much there," she said.

Kristoff raised his face to her, bleached from all colour. "Anna… you should go back inside," he said.

She shook her head. "I feel fine now. I guess getting on board was the hard part. Now I figure there's nothing I can do. You know, if we sink, we sink! It's strange but I actually feel pretty peaceful."

As she spoke, Kristoff lent back over the side and expelled what little must have been left of his lunch. Anna winced. "Uh, sorry," she said. She drummed her fingers on the side of the ship. "Maybe I should stop bothering you…"

Just before she could make off, Kristoff grabbed hold of her arm. "Wait," he said. "Stay, would you? I'm bored to death on this accursed rig." He spat another lump of carrot into the water. "If it's not too gross for you, your Highness."

Anna wrinkled her nose, wiping her arm on the front of her dress. Loftily she said: "It's pretty gross. But I _suppose_ I can grace you with my presence, for a time." Kristoff snorted in response, and Anna started giggling into her hand. Then Kristoff threw up again.

"Uh, can I get you anything?" she asked.

"It's fine," he gagged. A shake of his head.

Anna looked out over the ocean. The winter sun was setting already, spilling liquid gold into the water. It was beautiful. A brisk wind blew, laced with an icy bite, and she pulled her fur lined cloak across her arms.

"Kristoff… why did you decide to come with me?" she said.

"You needed my help," he said. Inclining her head, Anna cocked a pointed eyebrow at Kristoff: flopped over the side like a beached fish.

"Look, I'm the ice guy. Water… apparently isn't my area of expertise," he protested.

"Mine either. Makes me wish Elsa was here. She could freeze it, and Sven could just pull us along."

"Oh, Sven." Kristoff uplifted longing eyes. "I miss you buddy. And I to think I left you behind because I thought you wouldn't like the boat ride."

Anna stifled a giggle. Even without Sven here, Kristoff couldn't get out of the habit of talking to him.

"I'm sure he and Olaf will have a great time house-sitting for you," she assured him.

"Too much of a great time, probably. If I find they've wrecked it with another party…" he said darkly.

"Did you tell Olaf he's not supposed to have the trolls round while you're gone?"

"Yeah, but you know what he's like when he gets overexcited," Kristoff grumbled. "I'm still finding pebbles everywhere. There was one under my mattress, for God's sake. I've been sleeping on it for weeks."

"Aww. You're no princess and the pea, are you Kristoff?"

It was just like it used to be between them. Anna joked and laughed with Kristoff about all the dumb things they used to laugh and joke about. Anna jabbed him int he ribs with her elbow and Kristoff talked to Sven; ever graceless, yet ever charming as before— even if he was vomiting off the side of a boat. It was just like old times.

Except it wasn't.

"—And once we've got Elsa back from Prince Dofus, we should have a party at the castle," Anna said excitedly. "All of us. Olaf and Sven too. And then—" as she spoke, however, she saw the distance in Kristoff's eyes. And she remembered: things had changed.

It was strange. She'd always thought that to make love with someone was a life changing event. That afterwards, she'd be someone new entirely. And yet, she was still, simply, Anna. It'd been awkward and uncomfortable, but in the end it'd meant nothing at all. How strange, that something like that could mean nothing at all.

To her, anyway.

"I'm sorry," she said, breaking the stifling silence.

"It's fine." Anna stole a glance at him. Kristoff was looking out over the water. The sun was sinking below the horizon now, the golden glow vanishing. He looked like he was far away. Standing next to her, but apart, too.

"Is… it difficult, being here with me?" Anna said, at the same time thinking, _Oh my God, that sounds so arrogant. What's wrong with me?_

"I'm not saying it's easy. But if I hadn't gone, I would just have worried about you," Kristoff said.

"You can't keep worrying about me, Kristoff…"

"I know," he said. "But let me worry just a little longer. 'Kay?" He turned to her, smiling tightly.

Digging her fingers into her braid, she nodded. "'Kay."

* * *

There was a commotion by the helm. As Anna approached, the Captain handed the Admiral Westergard a telescope, and he looked out over the water.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"A ship, your Highness, flying the Spring City's banners," said the Captain.

"What? Where?" she asked, and the rotund, gruff Admiral Westergard pressed the telescope into her hand.

"Take a look," he said.

Anna put it to her eye so quickly she almost jabbed her eyeball out. She recognised the ship on the water. It was the same ship she'd dragged Kristoff up the tower at home to see. Queen Matilda's flagship, the _Briar Rose_ , with its mermaid prow. It was sailing towards them.

"What do they want?" Anna asked.

"I guess we'll find out," growled the Admiral.

* * *

Matilda's flagship dwarfed their own. Next to it, the _Dolphin_ looked like a toy boat. And as several men strode across onto their ship, Anna's gaze was fixed on the man the others lagged behind. Medals flashed at his breast, his boots polished to perfection. He looked no older than forty, and yet his hair was completely grey. There was a confident arrogance in his step.

"My name is Commodore Schmidt, servant to HRM Queen Matilda of the Valleylands. Is that Arendelle's flag you fly?"

Anna took a step forward, but Admiral Westergard stopped her. "Let me handle this, your Highness," he said quietly. She looked to Kristoff beside her, who shrugged. To the Commodore, Admiral Westergard said: "Aye, it is."

The Commodore frowned at Westergard. "I thought I recognised you, Albert." He smiled briefly. "How many years has it been?"

"More than I dare to count," said Westergard. "You're Commodore now, are you?"

"Fate's treated me well," Schmidt admitted.

"And Queen Matilda, eh?" said Westergard.

Schmidt smiled a lopsided smile. "You could say that." His eyes lingered on Anna curiously. "May I ask where you're bound?" he said.

"Your Spring City," said Westergard.

"On what business?"

"To crash a wedding," he said bluntly.

Commodore Schmidt's eyebrows rose in surprise. "I didn't know you liked all that lovey-dovey stuff, Westergard."

"You're still a fool, Schmidt. Now kindly move your hulk of a rig so we can get through. Wouldn't want to miss the celebrations, would we?"

Schmidt shook his head. "As much as it pains me, you're going to have to turn back."

 _Turn back!_ Anna made to speak, but Kristoff put a hand on her back.

"Let him handle it," he mouthed to her.

"Oh aye, I bet it pains you." Westergard's brows were furrowed, mouth set in a firm frown. It was as though he had expected this.

"My sincerest apologies," said Schmidt.

"It's not me you should apologise to. It's the Princess Anna here."

Schmidt's eyes moved to her. "Princess Anna…" he dropped into a sudden bow. "Your Highness. When I saw you, I did wonder…"

 _He knows me?_ But a more pervasive thought pushed past this. "Why won't you let us through?" she demanded. "We're your allies."

"I must say again, my deepest apologies…"

"I don't want your apologies." A touch of Elsa's royal command infiltrated her voice. "I want to know why. You had no problem letting my sister through, after all."

"Your sister…?" Schmidt paused. "You mean her Majesty Queen Elsa?"

"Who else do I mean?" Anna snapped. "The sister who's marrying _your_ prince."

"Ah, you mean his Highness Prince Jareth. Yes, the people are very excited for the wedding. However, I don't see how this concerns Queen Elsa."

_Wait, what?_

"Schmidt," growled Admiral Westergard. "Explain what you're babbling about. This instant."

"Perhaps I misunderstood you. I assumed you were talking about Prince Jareth's upcoming marriage to Alice Headley."

" _Who_?" Anna demanded.

"The Duchess of Salisbury. So, forgive me. I'm not sure how Queen Elsa comes into this equation…"

And something in Anna snapped.

"You complete, absolute _liar_!" She threw herself at Schmidt, and would have socked him hard in the jaw if the Captain hadn't restrained her by the arms just in time. "Let me go!" she demanded. "They've got Elsa! They're going to do something to her, I just know it. Let me at him!" She tried to shove the Captain off her, but he held on fast.

"Princess, please calm yourself!" he gasped, wheezing from where she'd elbowed him in the stomach.

"Schmidt. I don't know what you're playing at, but you're getting over your head," Westergard said darkly.

"From where I'm standing, you're getting over yours," said Schmidt. "I cannot and will not let you pass. Queen Matilda's will is absolute."

"You can't just _kidnap_ a queen," Kristoff said. His jaw was clenched tight. He looked furious.

"Who said anything about kidnap? As I said before, Prince Jareth will marry Alice Headley. Queen Elsa is not here. As of yet, the Spring City has yet to be graced by a visit by her."

"Liar!" shouted Anna.

"Tell me," said Westergard. "Should we attempt to continue to the capital, what do you intend to do?"

"I do not advise it," Schmidt said, his mouth a grim line.

"You threaten to gun down a ship of Arendelle's royal navy? You might as well proclaim war on this spot!" said Westergard.

"That's not our intention," said Schmidt. Westergard frowned at him.

"Then…"

"Queen Matilda's will is absolute," Schmidt repeated. He turned, nodding to his men to board the Briar Rose. "Return to Arendelle. This is your only warning." He strode back onto his ship, and the Captain released Anna.

"Only warning, my arse," said Westergard darkly. Anna had never seen him so angry.

"Admiral," said the Captain. "Schmidt… Could he be the same Schmidt who…?"

"The very same," said turned to Anna and explained: "Schmidt is an Arendelle national. Never thought I'd see him turn on his own country and queen like this, though."

"He's from _Arendelle_?" said Kristoff.

Westergard nodded. "Trained the man myself. He was my right hand man. I was even considering recommending he take the admiralship when I retired. He had it all set. Secure position. His wife had just had a kid, too. Baby girl. Then, must have been about seventeen years ago, he up and left everything, including his wife, and moved to the Valleylands with his kid. Took a job in the navy from Queen Matilda."

"It must have been seventeen years ago that we started receiving the strange reports from the Spring City," the Captain pondered.

"What a despicable man. To leave his wife like that," Anna said.

"Thing is, Schmidt was the biggest family man I ever knew," Westergard said. "Loved his wife to bits, he did. When I was told he'd run out on her, I didn't believe it. It just didn't seem like him at all. And well, maybe he found some harlot and ran off with her, but I doubt it. There's something rotten in the Spring City. Since that day I've been convinced of it."

"He loved his wife, and then just left her…" Anna said. Her hand went to her mouth. "Just like…"

"Like Elsa!" said Kristoff. "I knew it. I knew she wouldn't leave Arendelle just like that."

"It's my deepest regret I didn't manage to stop her," said Westergard. "I tried to convince her otherwise, but it was as though she was possessed of something. Please accept my sincerest apologies, your Highness…"

Anna shook her head. "Don't apologise. It's not your fault. I should thank you, for trying. And—" she turned round, to face the Captain. "Thank you for holding me back. I understand now. Hitting Schmidt wouldn't have solved anything. It's Queen Matilda who's behind all of this. _She's_ our target. And when get to her," she pounded her open palm with her fist, "I'm going to knock every single one of her false teeth out."

"Do we turn back Admiral, and ready the fleet?" asked the Captain.

"What do you think we should do, your Highness?" Westergard asked her.

She started. "Me? You're letting me decide?"

"As Schmidt has made us aware, Queen Elsa has been incapacitated. Princess, it's up to you to lead us."

She bit down on her lower lip. "Me? But I'm not…"

"You are absolutely able, Princess," said Westergard. "I have full confidence in your abilities." Behind him, the Captain, the second mate, and Kristoff were nodding.

"You can do it, Anna," said Kristoff.

"Then I…" she nodded. "I think we should keep going. By the time we've got back to Arendelle and prepared the navy, who knows what might have happened to Elsa. Though I'm concerned about what he said…"

"Mines, do you think?" suggested the Captain.

"We'll have to take it slow, put several scouts on the look out," said Westergard. "It's clear they've got _something_ planned for us up ahead. The manner of which, I fear we'll have to find out." At Anna's anxious look, he reassured her: "But I agree with you, Princess. There's no time to turn around. We must move fast while they're expecting us to dither, and reclaim the Queen."

Anna nodded. "Then let's go. We will strike forward, for the honour of Arendelle!"

* * *

The _Dolphin_ cut through the water. The sun sank on the second day at sea, and turned the water an inky black. In the darkness, they tacked in the sails and slid slowly through the water, sailors swinging lanterns, calling to one another in the dark.

The ship rocked gently. In her private cabin, asleep in her bunk, Anna was dreaming.

She was dreaming one of her nonsensical dreams. Elsa was shouting at Olaf for taking all of the ice cream in the kitchen pantries to make his own ice cream castle. Anna was defending him. "You have to admit, Els. It looks pretty good." Olaf finally convinced Elsa to take a tour round the castle, and inside on ice cream thrones were her mother and father. "After the accident at sea we washed up the ice cream country," her mother told them. "We tried to come home, but whenever we made a boat out of ice cream, it melted in the water. It was a real pain." Both she and Elsa said they were just happy to have them home, and her mother kissed Anna on the head. "Darling, how I've missed you," she said, scooping up into her arms, for she was a child again.

And then the dream changed. Elsa vanished. Water sprayed in from the windows. Salty, sea water. It filled the throne room in an instant. A huge wave carried Anna away from her mother. "No!" She swallowed a mouthful of sickly sweet seawater. She gagged, and the current pulled her under.

Anna awoke, clutching her chest, gasping.

Outside the cabin, in the blackness, she heard shouting. She grabbed hold of bed as the ship careered to the side. There was a deafening sound, almost like thunder. A terror she'd not felt since she was child gripped hold of her heart, knocked the breath from her lungs: it wasn't thunder, but huge, crashing waves.

The door slammed open: in came the wind and driving rain, and a soaked sailor.

"What's happening?" she cried.

"Princess Anna," he gasped, clutching hold of the wall as the ship rocked dangerously. "The storm, it came out of nowhere. You have to stay here."

"Where's Kristoff? Is he safe?" The ship creaked. The lamp hanging from the ceiling fell and smashed. Books on the shelf, one by one, fell and slid across the wooden boards.

"The ice harvester?" said the sailor.

"Yes, the ice harvester!"

"He was supposed to be scouting at the front of the ship, I think. I haven't seen him."

Horrible fears gripped Anna, stronger than the fear for her life. "I have to find him!" she said. She slipped as the ship rocked, and fell into the soaked sailor's arms.

"Princess, I cannot let you go out there. You could be killed!" he said.

"You don't understand. Kristoff's in _danger_."

"We're _all_ in danger. Princess, for the sake of Arendelle, you must stay here."

With all the strength in her, she shoved the man away. Caught off-guard, he stumbled and fell over the fallen bookshelf. "Forgive me," she said. "But I have to protect the people I care about."

She flung herself out of the cabin, fighting against the wind, so fierce it tried to drive her back. She shielded her eyes against the rain, icy and stinging, relentless as it drove itself against her.

" _Kristoff!_ " she called, her voice snatched away by the wind.

Lights moved in the dark. Lightning flashed, illuminating for an instant the sailors on the rigging, desperately pulling in the sails. And the waves.

"God no. God help me." Her words were eaten away by the deafening thunder that followed.

Tall as the mast, black as ink, the waves crashed. It was a scene cut straight from her worst nightmare.

She fought through the storm, feeling for the side of the ship. " _Kristoff!_ " she screamed.

Lightning flashed once more, and she saw him. He was half way up the mast, helping the sailors bring the sail in. She saw, too, the huge wave rearing up above them, before it crashed.

Anna dropped to a crouch, clutching hold of the side as hard as her frostbitten fingers could manage. The wave hit with a huge, physical force, a punch in the gut. When it washed away down the ship, she was left spluttering and choking. She forced her head up to look at the mast. A realisation hit her harder than the punch of the wave: Kristoff was gone.

She forced herself to her feet and, ran to the front of the ship, sliding on the slick boards, slipping, picking herself up again. She threw herself at the front of the ship and searched the water.

 _Lighting, please, flash,_ she thought, and it did. She saw Kristoff, laying face forward in the water.

"Help!" she called. "Someone!" But the wind carried her voice away. There was no one around. Only her.

With fumbling fingers she unclipped the broach of her cloak. Soaked and heavy, she shrugged it off. Her dress she pulled off, struggling to get the sodden thing over her head. In her undergarments she approached the dark, writhing water. She shivered, crossing her goosebump arms.

 _I really wish someone had taught me to swim,_ she thought, before she leapt in anyway.

The water was so cold it felt as though her bare flesh was being stabbed with dozens of needles. She pushed up through the water, gasping as her head broke the surface. She could see Kristoff floating not far from her. She doggy paddled through the rough water towards him, coughing as the water sprayed up in her face. She grabbed hold of his arm, and towed him towards the rope ladder.

Before a huge wave, toppling over them, broke, and tore her away from Kristoff, pulling her deep underwater.

Anna forced her eyes open. The world beneath the waves was dark. She could feel the disturbance of the waves, but she saw nothing. Only: blackness. She could have been up, or down, or sideways, and she wouldn't have a clue.

Yes, she'd been told her about heaven and hell, but when Anna thought of death, this was what she imagined. Darkness. Nothingness. Being absolutely, completely alone.

She couldn't see Kristoff anymore.

She'd failed Elsa. She hadn't even made it to the Spring City…

She'd never be able to tell her the truth: that kissing Elsa had taken her breath away. She couldn't live without her. She needed her. That she still didn't completely understand what it meant, but she loved her, too.

Her chest was burning. Her thoughts were spiralling into incoherency.

And she thought: _No._ She would tell her! She wouldn't give up. Until her last breath was snatched from her, she'd keep fighting, for Elsa and for herself, and for their parents who'd loved them too. She kicked hard against the water.

…and her head broke the surface. She gasped for breath. The water was calm: still as a lake. The black clouds split asunder.

The storm had vanished.

**To be continued.**


	17. entanglement

"Kristoff, please, hold on!"

Soaked to the bone and shivering in the cold night air, Anna used the last of her strength to haul Kristoff aboard the deck of the ship. Hands clutched hold of her, and by the swinging lamplight she saw the sailors pull her to safety. "Kristoff," she said, through chattering teeth. "It's Kristoff. You have to help him."

She felt the rough scratchy blanket as it was pulled around her, saw through wavering vision clouded by tears as a sailor administered CPR to Kristoff.

"Please…" she said, voice weak and hoarse from the water, "you took my parents. Not Kristoff, too."

For the first time perhaps, her prayers were answered. Kristoff came to life, spluttering up seawater.

"Kristoff!" she fell on shaky knees beside him, burying her face in his sodden shirt.

"…Anna?" came his weak voice. "Where am I? Anna… are you crying?"

"I won't," she said, gripping onto his shirt, hard. "I won't lose anybody else. I won't!"

"Anna…"

Anna felt someone touch her hair, and she raised her head, bleary eyes, to see Kristoff smiling a weak crooked grin.

"I'm fine, honest. But what on earth happened?"

"A very good question," said Admiral Westergard. Men were running up and down the deck, but the Admiral strode calmly down, checking the sails. "We should have incurred a great deal of damage during the storm, but the _Dolphin_ seems undamaged."

With effort, Kristoff pushed himself up. "I'm sure I saw the mast go down," he said, between coughing.

And yet it looked fine, now. The storm had vanished. The sky was blue.

"The Spring City keep their secrets, clearly," said Westergard.

"But what was it? That was no ordinary storm," said Kristoff.

"No, it wasn't." Anna shook her head. "It was magic."

* * *

The Queen had summoned her. Ada headed to her rooms, eyes to the ground. She didn't hear the footsteps approaching or the person pass her by until Ilia hitched her playfully the crook of her arm and swung her back the other way.

"Ilia," she said, startled, as the older woman led her back in the opposite direction, their elbows linked like schoolchildren.

"Hello daydreamer," said Ilia.

"I was going to see the Queen—" Ada started.

"She's speaking the Commodore. So, you have time to talk with me. Come. We haven't spoken since you got back: I want to hear about Arendelle."

"Alright." Ada let herself be led away, out into the spring time garden; sunshine and gentle breeze. They sat under the gazebo, and a servant brought a tray of cakes and tea. Ada kicked back, rocking on the heels of her chair, staring at the latticework roof of the gazebo.

"I've missed this weather," she said. "It's beautiful."

"It's exhausting, that's what it is," said Ilia. She was demolishing a cream cake, a second prepared in her other hand. "Really works up an appetite. I'm just hungry all the time."

Ada smiled. "Nice excuse."

"Hey. I thought it wasn't half bad, myself."

"You gave up on the diet then?" Ada asked.

"The diet can wait. These cakes, however, cannot."

Ilia looked, as always, the epitome of elegance. A large lady, her dark hair she pinned up behind her head. Whatever she was wearing, you could guarantee the rest of the court would be wearing it too, before the fortnight was out. She was Ada's closest friend.

"I hear the Queen's keeping you busy," said Ada.

"Now that's the understatement of the nineteenth century. By the time I fall into bed these days, Ada, sweetling, I don't think you'd be able to distinguish me from a log in forest. Not only am I keeping up the spell on the city twenty four seven, the Queen's got me sending storms way out into the Atlantic now. I'm more stretched out than a bit of butter over too much bread."

"Glad to hear your dramatic flair in still intact, though."

"Sweetling. If I ever lose it, you may as well bury me then and there," said Ilia, emptying the sugar pot into her teacup.

Ada pulled her legs up onto the chair, burying her face between her knees like a child. "I think I feel the same way. Stretched out. Thin. Like there's not enough of me."

Ilia set down her cup. "You're still down in the dumps, huh?"

"I hoped getting away from the City for a while would help, but… I'm restless, Ilia. And I'm more worried about the Queen than ever," said Ada, lowering her voice. "Though… perhaps I should say no more."

"Speak freely. I am, as always, your confidant."

"I… I fear the Queen is becoming obsessed. When we first began all of this, I was more than happy to use my talents to do anything I could for her. But since then, she's lost her way. When I think about her now, compared to the woman she used to be…" Ada stopped. She bit her lip, hard. "My pride is gone. I still serve her with all my heart, but it's heavy."

"And how does Queen Elsa come into all of this?" asked Ilia.

"What we've done… what _I've_ done, for the Queen, to other people— it hasn't always been good. But I used to console myself with the fact that _they_ weren't good people. Elsa is different."

"Because of her powers, you mean?" said Ilia.

"Because she's one of _us_. A misfit, brought up alone and scared, the same as you and I. Even now, she's afraid of what she can do. We took advantage of that." _I did,_ Ada thought.

Ilia studied her from across the table. "I get it. You want to help her," she said, "because she reminds you of yourself."

"You're saying this is just self-pity?" Ada asked.

"I'm _saying_ all this guilt is a waste of time. She came here of her own free will, didn't she?"

"I'd hardly call blackmail 'free will.' Ilia."

Ilia sighed. She set her half eaten cake down. "Ada. We're doing her a favour. Her sister's never going to return her feelings—"

"You know about that?" Ada interrupted her.

Ilia gave her a look. "I know about _everything_ , sweetling. Just like I know she'll be a damn sight happier here than tormenting herself back in Arendelle. Give it long enough and she'll forget all about her. And when we achieve eternity, she'll be one of the lucky ones to get a slice of it. You've no need to feel _sorry_ for her."

"Eternity…" Ada said, a low murmur. She stared in a fixed gaze at the insignia embossed onto the tea tray. "We've been talking about it for so long, but I still don't have the faintest idea what it means."

"Well…" Ilia hesitated, stirring her tea aimlessly. "I don't rightly know either, but I like the sound of it. Eternal life, perhaps? Eternal youth? Eternal cream cakes?"

Ada shook her head, laughing. "I know which one you'd choose."

Ilia smiled a lopsided smile. "You got me. But tell me." She lent across the table on her elbows. "What would you choose, if you could have eternity?"

 _Eternity: to last forever,_ Ada thought. _When it comes down to it, our lives are brief as butterflies. They last an instant. A fraction of an instant. And eternity is that instant, repeating for tens, thousands, millions of years._

"I can't imagine it," she said. "Nothing lasts forever. Everything ends."

"Not when we're through with it," said Ilia.

* * *

Raising her hand to knock on the Queen's door, Ada was startled when it opened in front of her.

"Commodore," she said in surprise.

"Ma'am," he said, with a short, formal bow. "The Queen's all yours."

The scuff of his boots on the stone floor as he left. Ada called inside, "Your Majesty! May I come in?"

Instead of the Queen's reply however, she heard a loud bark, and in a rush was bundled over by a large mass of fur.

"Emma, no!" she exclaimed, laughing, as she felt a rough, wet tongue on her face. She pushed the old sheepdog away, but she responded only with a more vigorous licking, tail wagging like a metronome.

"I haven't seen her this energetic in years." Pinned from beneath the dog, she saw Queen Matilda approach. She petted Emma with her many ringed fingers. "Come, girl. Let Ada breathe."

With one last happy lick, the dog climbed off Ada and let her sit up. "Walk her for me later, will you?" Matilda asked her. "She's been exhausting all morning."

"Of course, your Majesty," said Ada, as she put her arms around Emma and hugged her fiercely. "I've missed you too Emma."

A slight noise from behind them, and Ada inclined her head to see two of Matilda's ladies in waiting, looking put out. "Your Majesty," one girl started, nervously, "if you'd like me to take her now—"

"You may be excused," Matilda said, waving them away with an air of boredom. "Ada's here now."

The two girls filtered out of the door very quickly. Ada felt the piercing glances they sent her.

"Your Majesty… forgive me for saying so, but I wish you wouldn't say things like that in front of them. They think I'm your favourite enough already."

"So? You are my favourite." The old woman made away across the room, light and airy, gauzy curtains murmuring like clouds in the breeze. She sat down on her favourite couch, and Emma ran to her, curling up by her feet. "They're stupid girls. I took them on because of their fathers, but they've been driving me up the wall with their inane chatter. It's time they learnt how things worked around here. "

"But they're ladies," said Ada. "And I'm…" _What am I, really? Servant? Daughter? Pet?_

"Is that what this is about? I'll give you a duchy if you want."

Ada shook her head. "I don't think that would help."

"Suit yourself," Matilda grunted. She picked up a leather bound book from her side and offered it to Ada. "Read to me," she said.

Crossing the room, she took it, studying the cover. _Blake. She is in a good mood,_ she thought.

Ada knelt down by the Queen's side, close enough to Emma so she could put an arm around her. She opened the book. "Which one?"

"The Echoing Green."

In her clear, high voice Ada began to read: "The sun does arise,

And make happy the skies;

The merry bells ring

To welcome the Spring…"

Her heart wasn't in her words. As she read, her mind drifted. She thought, _I should talk to her about it, while she's in a good mood._ She thought, _Is that all I am to her, a pet? Like Emma? To be played with and babied and put away?_ She thought, _I will talk to her. I must make her understand._

It startled her when she found there were no more words on the page. She hadn't been paying attention at all.

"Very nice. Now read another," said Matilda, her eyes closed.

"Which?" said Ada absently.

"You choose."

Ada flicked through without much thought and began to read. "I dreamt a dream! What can it mean?

And that I was a maiden Queen

Guarded by an Angel mild:

Witless woe was ne'er beguiled!

And I wept both night and day,

And he wiped my tears away;

And I wept both day and night,

And hid from him my heart's delight—"

"Ada," Matilda interrupted her. She started.

"Was it no good?"

"You never read from Experience." She studied her closely. "Something is bothering you."

Ada set the book down. "Your Majesty—" she started, but Matilda shook her head.

"Such formalities! You've no need for that here."

Ada started again: "Grandmother… I think we were wrong to take Queen Elsa from her country."

"You know, I wondered if it was that you were worrying about," Matilda said, scratching Emma behind the ears.

Ada sat up straight. She spoke with determination: "Ilia and I, and Khublan and Angus, we're no more than common people. But Elsa's a queen. She has a country and people."

"Both of which are a pain in the arse, and I speak with experience," Matilda chuckled.

"Grandmother! Please, I'm serious. Was it really _necessary_?" Ada said.

"Yes." There was a quiet force in Queen Matilda's voice that wrenched her attention. "Elsa is the last piece we need. We're now one step away from attaining eternity."

"But— when will you tell us what that even means?" There was a neediness in Ada's voice she couldn't swallow down. Against her will, the hurt was plain to hear in her voice: "You used to tell me _everything_ Grandmother."

"Ah. I understand now."

Tears clouding Ada's eyes, she stared hard at a spot of the floor. And then a hand was under a chin, gently tweaking her head up so she could see her queen. "Forgive me," Matilda said, in a soft tone Ada had not heard in years. "I've been irresponsible and haven't considered your feelings. I've made you think I don't trust you, haven't I?"

"I would— I'd never—" Ada stammered, but Matilda shook her head. She patted the space on the couch next to her.

"Come. Sit," she said. Ada picked herself up and sat beside her. With a bark, Emma jumped up onto the couch and into her lap. Queen Matilda clutched her hand. It was more wrinkly than an unmade bed, her rings cold and hard. "You will know, soon. When the time is right," she said. "Tell me. Do you remember that snowy day, when we first met?"

Ada nodded, quickly wiping away her tears. "Of course. How could I forget?"

"I was on my way to that dopey oaf Gerald's wedding when my carriage lost a wheel, and the convoy was forced to stop in your village," said Matilda.

Ada could remember acutely the sense of excitement that day. In her sleepy village, where nothing happened and no one new ever visited, the Queen had come to visit! She'd begged and begged her father to let her go, but naturally he'd forbid her. "The Queen of all people doesn't need to see your freakishness _,"_ he'd snarled. Maybe he'd been a kindly man once, for people said so, but Ada couldn't imagine it. Her mother died giving birth to her, and as she grew he saw his wife in her, the resemblance stronger day by day. "You are a curse, placed on me by the devil _,"_ he'd tell everyday, until she began to believe it.

Her magic worked its way on the villagefolk, too. In her they saw the ghosts of their loved ones, of people they loved or once loved. _She's a witch,_ they whispered to one another, until they begun to speak louder.

That day her father locked the house behind him. He left her behind. But, she'd long learnt where he kept the key. She slipped out and found several snowdrops, poking out from beneath the snowdrift in the graveyard. Wet and cold and dirty now, but determined to meet the Queen even if her father punished her for it, she pushed through the angry murmurs in the square. There she met the kindliest face she'd ever seen.

Queen Matilda lent down to speak with her. "Child, what is your name?" _s_ he asked. She looked at her not in fear and anger and curiosity, but tenderly, like a mother would. Nobody ever touched her, but Queen Matilda cupped her face with her hand. It was warm. "Where have all these cuts and bruises come from?" _s_ he asked her. Ada lied and stuttered and said she fell. "I see," the Queen said. She told Ada her flowers were lovely and thanked her. It was the happiest she'd ever been.

Her father was beating her for disobeying his orders when the royal guards kicked down the door that night. They pulled her father away from her, kicked him to the ground and began to hit him.

"Stop! Please don't hurt him!" she cried.

"Why?" said one of the guards. "We know all about this man and how he treats you. He deserves to be punished."

 _But…_ "But he's my father," she protested.

"He doesn't deserve to be your father." She was shocked when she saw the Queen stepping under the threshold into their tiny, dingy house. She was out of place as a cat on a raft. Beautiful, radiant, the reserved steps she took towards her. Brushing her elegant skirts out of the way, she knelt by her side. "I'm taking you away from this place. You'll live at the palace, with me."

"But why?" she asked.

"Because I made a vow to serve and protect all of my citizens," Queen Matilda said. She offered Ada her hand, and she took it.

After that day, she never went hungry again. Nobody ever beat her again. She lived in a luxurious room in the palace and attended on the Queen herself, who treated her like her own child.

 _She saved me,_ thought Ada. Because she knew now: if she'd stayed in that house much longer, her father would have killed her. _She saved my life, but it's more than that too. She gave me a new one._

What was she thinking? Being jealous because the Queen was spending more time with Ilia? Getting upset because she wasn't telling her things? What did it matter?

The day she'd been taken to the palace, she'd made a vow. That she'd protect and serve Queen Matilda for the rest of her life.

Ada slipped from the couch and dropped to her knees. "My Queen," she said, clutching her hand, head bowed. She felt Matilda's fingers in her hair, touching her tenderly. "Forgive my unfaith. I trust you, absolutely. I am yours."

_Which is why I won't rest, until I bring back the woman you used to be._

* * *

"Magic?" spluttered Kristoff. "You mean there's more people in the world like Elsa?"

"Don't tell me you never heard stories as a kid about witches and sorcerers," said Anna. She rung the seawater out of her hair, shivering.

"Of course I did. But that's what they were. Stories," said Kristoff.

"I thought so too. Until Elsa froze Arendelle."

"Right," said Kristoff. He spluttered up some more seawater. "I hate the sea," he groaned.

"You and me -b-both," said Anna, pulling the blanket more tightly around her.

Kristoff eyed her with concern. "You didn't fall in too, did you?" he asked.

"Well, I wouldn't quite put it as, 'falling in'," Anna said lightly.

"Anna…" a dark tone of warning in his voice. "Don't tell me you didn't—"

"And I mean, there was no one else around, so—" she brushed a wet bit of hair behind her ear.

"Anna!" Kristoff exclaimed. She winced.

"Look," she burst out, "I wasn't just going to stand around and let you drown, was I?"

"But Anna—" he shook her by the shoulders, "you can't _swim_."

"Hey. That's not, technically, true. I can doggy paddle," she said.

"You know, you and your sister, you're exactly the same."

"Elaborate," said Anna, gazing at him dubiously.

"You're so damn set on sacrificing yourself for other people, that you don't _think,"_ he said.

Arms crossed, she looked at him with eyebrow quirked. "So you're saying you wouldn't have jumped in for me?"

"Of course I would, but that's not the point—" he said.

"Why, exactly?"

"Because— because—" he spluttered.

"Just repeat, after me: 'Thank you Anna for saving my life. I'm very grateful.'"

"I'm not saying that I'm _not_ grateful—" he said.

"You're very welcome," Anna said.

Kristoff sighed and shook his head. "I'm not going to win this one, am I?"

Anna grinned. "Nope."

He raised his hands in defeat. Smiled weakly. "Fine… thank you, for saving my life."

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Princess Anna?" a sailor approached them with a salute. "Let me take you back to your quarters. You should get dry as soon as possible or you'll fall ill."

"Good p-point," said Anna, unable to stop the stutter. She felt so cold it wouldn't be long before her teeth were chattering. She staggered to her feet, and noticed Kristoff was staring at her. She thought he must be feeling better because his cheeks were pink.

"What?" she said.

"Anna… are you only in your underwear?"

"Huh?" Anna looked down. And felt her face burn hotter than the sun.

* * *

**To be continued.**


	18. reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to Nicpie for agreeing to be my beta for this fic. :)

What a strange country, Anna thought.

Before they'd docked in the small, secluded natural harbour, the forest looked as bare and barren as any winter forest should. When Anna stepped off the boat however, she walked into a flowering springtime. The trees were bursting with fistfuls of blossom. Warm sunshine played on the back of her neck.

"Do you see what I see?" she asked Kristoff as he stepped off the gangwalk.

He pressed down on his eyes, in case he was seeing things. "More magic?" he asked her.

It had to be, she thought. There was no way any of this was natural.

What secrets was the Spring City keeping?

It was decided that Anna and Kristoff would go to find Elsa and everyone else stay with the ship. This hadn't been a particularly easy sell. "If I''m not back in a day, without sending you a message, you can come and find us," was the agreement they finally struck.

Anna didn't want lots of people involved. She'd find Elsa and bring her home, simple as that.

It was a few hours walk to the capital. As she and Kristoff walked, she found herself stripping off layer after layer of winter clothing. Midday approached, and in her woollen winter dress she felt sticky and uncomfortable. She reached behind her to scratch her back and found it damp with sweat.

They stopped at a burbling stream to take a drink, and as Anna pulled off her boots to relieve her sore feet she noticed the angry reddening bite marks covering her ankles. They were unmercifully itchy.

"First they tried to drown us. Now they're trying to make us itch ourselves to death!" Anna said, scratching away.

It was a huge relief when they finally made it to the city gates. Inside, the houses and streets were garlanded with flowers. The people were out in droves, and Anna and Kristoff slipped into the crowd. Everything smelled like noise and excitement. The approaching wedding had drawn tourists and salesmen from all over the Valleylands. The city was teeming with people calling out their wares; celebratory wedding memorabilia; celebratory wedding buns; celebratory wedding jellied eels.

Anna was drawn to a stall set up with china plates and crockery. She reached out to touch one of the plates; painted onto it was Jareth and Elsa's likeness.

"The plates are sixty if you're interested. The smaller ones are forty,"the man behind the stall said.

Anna's fingers traced Elsa's braid on the ceramic. "Who is this?" she asked.

"Where have you been living young lady? Under a rock?" said the trader. ""That's Lady Elsa, daughter of the Marquis Augustenborg. Just like it says on the plates."

On the china, in silver calligraphy it said:

" _Prince Jareth and Lady Elsa Austenborg"_

_United in Love_

_1841_

"Sixty," he repeated.

"I'm just browsing," said Anna.

"Then I'll ask you to keep your hands off the merchandise," he said.

Her hands slipped away from Elsa's likeness. "It doesn't look like her anyway," she _haru-umphed_ , turning on her heel.

"Lady Elsa?" Kristoff asked quietly, as she rejoined him. "That's what that Schmidt man said too. What does it mean?"

"I don't know either," admitted Anna, "but I know where we can find out." She raised her eyes to the castle, its emerald flags flying in the enchanted breeze.

* * *

"We need to see Queen Matilda," Anna demanded, striding up to the two guards posted at the gate. "Immediately."

The guards' armour was embossed with the insignia of the Spring City; a flowering rosebush.

"Supplicants?" one asked, the taller of the two. ""We'll add you to the list."

"How long will it take?" asked Kristoff. ""It's a matter of urgency."

"So said the last few hundred supplicants come to see the Queen," said the guard''s shorter partner, in a bored drawl. "But believe it or not, the Queen's a busy woman.""

The tall guard opened a notebook, thick with names. "It'll be a fortnight or so, I'd imagine."

"A fortnight?" Anna exclaimed. ""We can't wait a fortnight."

"It you haven't noticed," said the short guard, "the city's got more on its hands than supplicants right now.""

"Kick back. Relax," suggested his colleague. ""Enjoy the royal wedding."

"But that's why I'm here," said Anna. This approach, she thought, clearly wasn't working. Adopting a posture she'd often seen Elsa use, she announced, "My name's Princess Anna of Arendelle and I request to see the Queen.""

However, she didn't expect the response she got after; the two men looked at one another and burst into raucous laughter.

"Princess Anna!" one exclaimed. "That's a good one."

"If you're the crown princess of Arendelle, I'm Princess Rapunzel of Corona," squawked his partner.

Anna stamped her sore, blistered foot in anger. "I am Princess Anna, and I did not come all this way to be mocked. I demand to see the Queen, immediately."

The two men broke down further into hysterics.

"Demands to see the Queen, she does!" they gasped.

"She didn't come all this way to be mocked!"

"I _won't—_ " Anna was blistering with anger, but then she felt Kristoff's hand go around her shoulder.

"It's no good," he said quietly. "They're not going to believe you, whatever you say."

"But—"she protested.

"We'll find another way in," he promised.

The guards breaking down in tears of laughter, Kristoff turned her way and they headed back away from the palace, and Elsa.

"What would Princess Anna be doing here, eh?" one of the men called after them.

* * *

She was beginning to wonder about that, too.

The free house was packed and noisy with a thick layer of pungent smoke sticking to the ceiling. They'd only just managed to find a table and were constantly being jostled with elbows as people barged through the crowd. Anna sat with her head in her hands.

"This is going as well as the last time I went to get Elsa," she said, as somebody spilt beer over her shawl and hair. "Great. Just great," she said, feeling it drip down the back of her neck.

Kristoff stood, his chair falling back. "Hey. Apologise to the lady," he demanded.

The man who'd spilt his drink turned around. From behind he'd looked like a normal man. From the front, his muscles bulged from under his shirt. He was eating a t-bone steak and with his massive jaw tore a chunk from it.

"You talking to me?" he boomed.

Anna tugged at Kristoff's sleeve. His eyes were wide saucers. "No," he gulped. "We're not."

"Good." He tore another chunk of flesh from his steak .

Kristoff sunk down into his seat. After a minute he asked, "Where do these huge guys keep coming from?" And then: "I could have taken him. Probably."

There was a bone sickening crunch, and their heads snapped around to see the same man punching a guy in the face. He flew back so far he skidded along the bar, smashing and crashing through all the drinks, and crashed into a cabinet.

"Bruiser! Bruiser!" chanted half the people in the free house.

"Or you know, not," said Anna. Kristoff nodded, pale.

On the next table to them, a group of off-duty palace guards ignored the violence and continued drinking one another under the table. Kristoff glanced towards them.

Anna sunk back down into her depression. "The crown princess of Arendelle," she said to herself. "Did you hear what those guards called me? Like Elsa doesn't exist. Is it possible to brainwash this many people?"

For a moment, she imagined how her life might have turned out if she'd been an only child. There never would have been a reason to close the gates. She wouldn't have grown up in isolation. And yet— _how lonely it would have been._

She didn't want to think what life would be without Elsa. She picked herself up; this was no time to be moping.

"There has to be a way into the castle," she announced, thumping her fist down on the table. ""We just need to _think_ of one."

She noticed Kristoff was only half paying attention to her. He was sat sideways on his chair, watching the group of guards next to them. As she turned to look at them, one was throwing up under the table.

He nudged his head towards them. "I think I've found a way," he said.

* * *

Staggering toward the palace in her heavy, overlarge armour, Anna paused to wriggle her leg. "I swear there's something in my breeches," she said. She clanked on next to Kristoff. "My vest feels sticky," she complained. "And it smells like someone's died in this helmet," she added, hacking. "This is _so_ gross!"

"Look, this was the only way I could think of to get in," said Kristoff.

"I'm not complaining," protested Anna, hurrying to catch up. "But, ugh…there''s something squishy in my boot. It feels like it's alive…"

As they approached the two guards on the gate, Anna's breath caught. But the two men just nodded them through, the snide guard leaning close to murmur, "The free house again, Hansen? Captain's going to tan your hide."

They penetrated the inside of the palace, and alone looked down the long corridors lined with portraits.

"How will we find Elsa?" Anna said.

"Hey. I haven't thought _that_ far ahead."

Her hands on her hips. " _Kristoff—_ "

"Hansen! Dahl!" a voice barked. From the end of the corridor, like a large bulldog, a angry decorated man came barging through. Kristoff turned to look behind him, and Anna elbowed him in the ribs.

"That's us!" she hissed.

Clumsily, they both raised their hands in salute. When the Captain was several feet from them, he stopped. Clenching his nose he took a step back.

"I was going to ask where the hell you two have been, but the stench gives me an inkling. You no good drunkards! You're a disgrace to the Queen," he barked. "What do you have to say for yourselves?"

Anna exchanged a glance with Kristoff. "Sorry?" she tried.

"You will be when I'm through with the both of you in the next drill. Now go get yourselves cleaned up and get to your posts. Immediately!""

The Captain stalked away, and anxiously Anna called after him, "Um, where…?"

The Captain, however, seemed to have expected this. He glared at her like she was an insect. Pointed a stabbing finger up the corridor. "The solarium, you nitwits! Next time, try and drink less so you'll have at least a few brain cells left in your empty heads, would you?"

When he was safely gone, Kristoff said, with a groan, "Guard duty?"

"We better, or they'll be onto us. And we'll never find Elsa stumbling around blindly anyway," said Anna.

Though they got lost a dozen times, she and Kristoff finally managed at last to stumble into the room the Captain called the solarium.

"Oh, wow…"

The solarium was a huge crystalline conservatory, filled with flowering aromatic plants. The sunshine that came through the glass was bent and twisted into a multitude of rainbows. Anna raised her hand and caught one in her gloved hands. She'd never touched a rainbow before.

From amidst the foliage, Anna heard the sound of a woman's laughter. She and Kristoff quickly took places on either side of the door. From where she was standing, if she craned her neck, Anna could see two women sat opposite in wickerwork chairs. Sat with her back to her was a dark haired heavyset woman. With a start, Anna realised she recognised her companion. She was Queen Matilda's seeress!

Anna found it hard to look away from her. She wore a gorgeous gown patterned with roses, her blond hair twisted elegantly behind her head. She seemed to give off an aura of sophistication and grace.

 _But there is a person…I see them standing close to you. This person will help guide you through your troubles. And through that person you will find happiness,_ the seeress had said.

Something clasped at her heart. She felt strange; breathless.

When she looked at Ada, why did it bring Elsa to mind?

The seeress turned and looked straight at her. Anna started: the seer seemed not just to look at her, but through her. In her heavy armour, she felt as though she was standing naked and exposed.

 _There's no use hiding it now. I suppose it must be obvious…_ her sister had said to her. _How much I want you._

Flushed and flustered under her helmet, Anna tore her gaze away from the seer. When she dared to glance back, Ada was chatting casually with her friend as though nothing had happened.

Anna felt shaken.

"Guard! You there. Come here for a minute, please." Anna's head snapped up to see Ada beckoning her.

On unsteady legs she made her way to the two women, Kristoff shooting her a panicked look.

Ada sat with her hands folded elegantly on her lap. "Would you go down the hall to the kitchens and find Olivia for us? Ask her to bring us some tea, if you'd be so kind."

"And some of her scrumptious cream cakes,"added her companion.

Anna nodded dumbly. She could hardly hold back that breath of relief. Tea. Right.

"One minute,"called Ada, as Anna started to head back. She froze. ""Be careful not to make too much of a racket, would you? Our guest Lady Elsa's room is just opposite the kitchens and she's resting."

_Elsa!_

Ada inclined her head to Kristoff. "Take your friend," she said.

* * *

Anna strode briskly down the corridor, leaving Kristoff to catch up with her.

"It was like she _knew_. And she wanted to help us," Anna said.

Kristoff hurried to keep up with her. "I don't know…why would she?"

They found the stairs to the kitchens. The door opposite was embossed with a snowflake. No doubt about it: Elsa was here.

Anna raised her hand and knocked.

"Come in," called the voice inside. Anna knew it anywhere.

The anxiety that gripped her heart evaporated when she opened the door and glimpsed her sister. She was sat at a dressing table in a dress of her own icy creation: a new one.

As Anna entered, she stood, and the wrinkles of the dress cascaded out like water to her feet.

She looked radiant.

"Elsa!" Anna tore the helmet from her head and tossed it aside. Staggering towards her as fast as her bulky armour would allow her, she squeezed Elsa to her, held her tight and never wanted to let go. The words left her in a torrent: "Thank God we found you! I was so worried something might have happened to you, and I don't know what they're planning but this whole thing was some kind of trap for you and I can't _believe_ you just left without saying anything to me but nevermind, I forgive you anyway because we have to get back to Arendelle straight away and—"

She felt Elsa pushing against her. "I'm sorry," her sister said, "but could you not squeeze so hard?"

Anna pulled back, flushing. "S-sorry. Guess I got a bit carried away, huh? It's just I—"

The blank look in Elsa's eyes froze the words on her tongue.

"Who are you?" her sister asked.

**To be continued.**


	19. elsa, enchanted

"I'm afraid you're too late."

Standing with her hands on either side of the doorway was Ada.

"Too late?" Anna's voice broke like lumber in a fireplace into crackling embers. "What are you talking about?"

"Ada, who are these people?" Elsa asked. She seemed baffled and put-off by Anna and Kristoff's sudden appearance, and had put several spaces between them.

"There's nothing to worry about, my lady. Just a misunderstanding," said Ada.

The words burst from Anna: "A misunderstanding?" she exclaimed. Nails bit into her palms.

"Anna, please come with me. I'll explain everything," said the seer.

"You can explain everything right here," said Kristoff, his voice low and dangerous.

Anna turned back to her sister and closed the gap between them. "Please, Elsa…" she implored her, "you have to remember me. I'm your sister, Anna." She clasped her hand between her own like a supplicant.

— only to find it encased in ice.

"Get any closer and it won't just be your hand," Elsa said, in a crisply cool voice. "Now get out of my room, before I call someone. You can't be my sister, because I don't have one. I'm an only child."

Worse than her words was the look in her eyes: the look of a stranger.

Anna clutched her frozen hand to her chest. She felt cold.

"Anna, please," Ada said.

She looked over at Kristoff. He seemed as helpless in the situation as she did.

Nothing else she could do but follow Ada out.

* * *

"What happened to her?"

Dimly, she heard Kristoff question Ada. But, Anna felt detached from everything. They were walking down the corridor and her body was moving, but she wasn't really there.

 _I don't have a sister,_ Elsa had said.

She cradled her defrosting hand. Never before had Elsa purposely hurt Anna with her powers.

"I'll explain everything," said Ada, "but we need to go somewhere quiet first. I don't want to be overheard."

When Anna tried to pull herself back to reality, she discovered they were in a bedroom. The walls were decorated with rosemaling, and a warm breeze stirred the air from the window. Ada sat in the chaise lounge by the unlit fireplace. Kristoff sat stiffly opposite her.

She remained standing.

"To answer your question before: Elsa's been put under an enchantment," Ada said.

"An enchantment?" said Kristoff. "By Queen Matilda?"

"By one of her magicians."

"One?" spluttered Kristoff.

"There's four of us. Ilia, Angus, Khublan and myself."

Anna pulled herself from her stupor. Her voice was low. "Did you do this?" she demanded.

To her credit, even under accusation, Ada remained quite calm and reserved.

"No. That's not my power. It's Khublan who can make people forget."

Kristoff frowned. "So he did what? Erased all her memories of Anna?"

"And gave her new ones. She no longer thinks she's Queen Elsa of Arendelle. Instead, she's the daughter of the Marquis."

When Anna was very small she'd lost memories of her own. Soon after the great thaw, Elsa told her the truth about the trolls' magic and how the secret of Elsa's powers was hidden from her.

And she'd never got those memories back.

"It's not right," Anna said, a low undercurrent of anger in her voice, "to tamper with someone's memories like that. It's not right."

Kristoff leant forward in his seat. "So, what, we find this Khublan guy and make him give Elsa back her memories?"

"I don't recommend it. You probably wouldn't remember who you are afterwards," said Ada.

"So, there's nothing we can do?" Kristoff said in frustration.

"I didn't say that." Her eyes met Anna's. "It's just a spell. Spells can be broken. You demonstrated that yourself, Anna, just on the way here."

It all clicked. "You mean the storm?"

"That was one of Ilia's spells. And I've never heard of anyone breaking one of her illusions."

"You mean the storm wasn't even real in the first place?" asked Kristoff.

"It was just meant to make you turn back," said Ada.

Anna shook her head. "I couldn't just leave Elsa…"

"Even though you might have drowned?"

Anna's hands, balled tight. "She's my sister. I could never abandon her."

Looking between the two of them, Kristoff sighed and put his head in his hand. "Let me guess. This is another one of those 'true love' things, isn't it?"

But, there was a new fire in Anna now. Determination was in her step.

"What do I need to do?" she said.

"Get close to Elsa. Befriend her. Maybe then she'll start to remember who you are."

"There's one problem with that," Kristoff pointed out. "What's Queen Matilda going to do when she sees Elsa talking to the princess of Arendelle?"

"Then she can become someone else other than the princess of Arendelle. There are a lot of people here for the wedding. Keep your head down and I doubt you'll be recognised."

Kristoff raised an eyebrow at her. "You up for some espionage, Anna?"

"I'll do whatever it takes to rescue Elsa," Anna said, fists balled tight with determination.

"That's good to hear," said Ada. "What you need to do is see Christian, the butler. You need to get him to hire you. Just keep asking him until he agrees."

"You mean… become a maid?" Anna said.

Kristoff stifled a laugh under his hand. "Sorry," he said.

Anna's determination wavered. "Well… it can't be that hard, right? It's just sweeping and mopping stuff, right? Dusting stuff and curtsying."

Kristoff made a sound that sounded distinctly like a snort. "You ever actually held a broom before, Anna?"

Her hands on her hips. "Hey! Of course I have…" she hesitated. "Maybe like, once. But how hard can it be?"

"I won't lie," said Ada, hands crossed on her lap. "It's not going to be easy. Christian will work you like a dog. But it's the best way I can think of to stay undercover. We'll have to do something about your hair, too." She eyed Anna's distinctive ginger locks.

"So what do I do?" said Kristoff.

Anna said, "You need to go back to the ship, Kristoff."

"What?"

"Someone needs to let Admiral Westergard know what's going on, and tell them what's happening here. So they can send word back to Arendelle."

Kristoff shook his head. "I'm not leaving you in this place all by yourself, Anna." He stood from his seat. Put his hands protectively on her shoulders. "Who knows what could happen to you here."

Her eyes met his. "Kristoff, you have to trust me."

"It's not you I don't trust," he said pointedly. His eyes roamed suspiciously over to Ada.

"I assume you're talking about me," said Ada, corners of her mouth quirking in a smile.

"Why _are_ you helping us?" Kristoff demanded.

"I have my reasons," said Ada simply.

Kristoff turned back to Anna, eyes wide and eyebrows raised as if to say: you see?

"Kristoff…" Anna's hand tightened over the cuff of Kristoff's sleeve. "You know how we talked before, on the boat? I said you had to stop worrying about me one day."

Kristoff nodded tightly. "I remember."

"I think today's that day," she said.

* * *

"My lady, have you thought about how you'd like your hair yet?" enquired the maid. "There are several up-do's popular here in the capital I could show you."

Stood up high on the dress-maker's stool, the tailor fluttering around with strips of material he kept pressing to her, Elsa brushed her hair behind her shoulders.

"No," she said, smiling at her reflection in the full-length mirror. "I've always worn it up. I'd like to try it down, for once."

"It looks good down," she heard the maid say.

Elsa ran her fingers through her free locks, eyes locked on her reflection. "I think so too."

She heard the click of the door, and in the mirror saw the visitor enter. Her mouth widened into the shape of an o.

"Queen Matilda!" she said, flushing slightly, stepping from the stool to offer her a curtsy.

Matilda waved this way. "There's no need for all that. In a few days time we're going to be family after all, aren't we?"

Elsa flushed even pinker. "I wanted to thank you again, your Majesty, for all the kindness you've showed me…"

Again: the flick of her wrist. "Please. Call me Grandmother."

"But— my goodness— I really couldn't…"

"I insist," Matilda said firmly.

"Well then…" Elsa smiled, her cheeks glowing. "Thank you, Grandmother. I never knew either of my grandmothers, you know. It'll be nice to finally have one."

Matilda's eyes softened. "I don't know if I've mentioned yet or not, but the Marquis was a good friend of mine. I was hugely saddened when I heard of his death. If I'd known how alone you've been the last few years, I would have brought you here long ago."

"You are… kind to say so, your ma— Grandmother," said Elsa, eyes downcast, old tears stinging her eyes as she thought of her mother and father. Three years ago, her parents were on the way to a wedding when a huge storm hit. She'd never been quite able to forgive them for leaving her all alone in their castle in the moors. The only company she'd had was the staff; the huge empty rooms; and silence.

 _I'm your sister,_ that strange girl had said this morning. She'd almost laughed aloud. She wished she did have a sibling. Maybe then, she wouldn't have been so lonely.

"Well, the past is in the past," Matilda said. She petted Elsa's hand. "And there's nothing we can do about it. Tell me: how are you enjoying the capital so far?"

A smile bloomed on Elsa's face. Her words left her in a flood: "It's wonderful, your ma— Grandmother. The city's so beautiful, and everyone has been so kind to me. And, well…"

"Go on," said Matilda, smiling at her enthusiasm.

"It's just so wonderful to be able to use my powers freely. Father was always afraid about what people would think if they knew, so I learnt to hide them…"

"As much as I liked your father, he had a tendency towards stupidity, I'm afraid," Matilda said dryly.

"He was trying to protect me, but…"

"But, you've no need to hide your powers here," said Matilda. "Elsa, I'm looking forward to seeing what you can do."

Elsa smiled broadly. "I'll do my best."

"Now…" Matilda turned back towards the setup, the tailor standing back with the maid to give them some space, the loops of material over his arm. "What are you bothering with all of this for?"

"Pardon?" said Elsa.

"I saw that dress you were wearing yesterday. You made it yourself, didn't you?" said Matilda.

Elsa bit her lip, pinkening. "I did."

"Don't you think a bride in a wedding dress made of ice would look absolutely spectacular?"

She could see it in her head: the shape of the bodice; the trail; the way the veil would fall.

Breathlessly she said: "Yes, I think it would."

"Well then, you best get to work."

She clasped her hands together, ignoring the souring look of the tailor who thought he was going to design the dress of the Marquis' daughter. "I really can?"

"Elsa." Matilda put her hand on her shoulder. "I don't want you to be scared of your powers anymore. I want you to embrace them."

"Then, I will."

That whole afternoon Elsa spent with a sketchpad and pencil, drawing a dozen different designs. She hummed under her breath.

Every so often, however, she distracted herself thinking of the people who'd burst into her room earlier that day. The girl, in particular.

Although she was sure she'd never seen her before in her life, Elsa couldn't get rid of the niggling feeling that she knew her.

* * *

**To be continued.**


	20. the dark

Acquiring a job in the palace proved to be slightly more difficult than Anna anticipated.

"Please, you've got to give me a chance," she pleaded, hurrying after the butler, Mr Christian, as he descended the stairs. For such a portly man, he was _fast_.

He chuckled dryly. "My dear girl, I think you'll find I don't have to _give_ you anything." He paused, twisting towards her. "—And how did you get in here anyway?"

"Uh."

He waved it away. "I don't care. Just leave me be."

The doors clanged; they burst into the bustle and controlled chaos of the kitchen. Pans sizzled; servants juggled plates; a woman budged past her with a tray of freshly baked rolls. "You're blocking the way, luv." Anna followed the butler through the miasma of steam, ducking underneath a man with a whole turkey.

Christian ran his finger across the preparation table. "Franz! Clean your work surfaces properly," he bellowed. He turned his head over his shoulder briefly to find Anna still trailing him. "Why are you still here?" he said.

The words burst from her: "Please, you have to give me a job!"

"And tell me, what do you have to offer? Besides your alarming persistence, I mean?" He picked up the lid of a saucepan and peered inside to give one, long, sniff. He wrinkled his nose. "Can you cook?"

"Well…" she hesitated.

"Do you sew?"

"Not really, but…"

"Have you ever been in any paid employment in this line before?" he demanded.

"That's…" she said, wilting.

He turned to face her. And to her alarm, snatched up her hand and inspected it. "I thought as much," he said, as he turned her hand over. "Young lady, you haven't done a day's work in your life, have you?"

"Of course I have—" she protested hotly.

"Don't. Lie." His eyes bored into hers.

Anna snatched her hands away. She held her head high. "Alright. I haven't. But I can learn."

"Maybe you can. Perhaps you can't. What I want to know is why a well-bred lady like yourself wants to do menial labour."

"I'm just an ordinary girl from the country—" she said, but Christian laughed aloud. He drew in closer to her and lowered his voice.

"I've worked in this palace for forty years. I can tell a nobleman or lady when I see them. I can _smell_ it on them." To demonstrate this, the butler's nostrils flared; leaning in close enough for Anna to count his long, black nose hairs, he took a deep _sniff_.

Anna leaned back out, wrinkling his nose. "Ew."

He waved her away. "Go home to your mother and father and let them take care of you. You wouldn't last a week here."

He turned away from her and headed towards the servants' quarters. Anna ran after him.

"My mother and father are dead," she said.

He didn't look back. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"I'm not leaving," she said, "until you give me a job."

"And if I call the guards?"

"I'm _not_ leaving," she said again.

Christian paused. Shrugged his shoulders. "Alright. You're hired," he said.

Anna blinked. "I… am?"

"I admire your persistence."

"Really?" said Anna.

"No. It'll amuse me to see you cry when you get dirt under your nails," he said, quite candid.

"O-oh."

"I'll keep you for week on trial. One week. Don't screw it up."

Anna tried to ignore what he'd said about the dirt under her nails and clasped her hands together. "I won't! Thank you so much. I—"

"Evelyn will show you the ropes," he said, before he left.

Evelyn, when Anna finally found her, turned out to be a large heavyset woman with an imposing jaw, who bared her teeth at her and said, "Fresh meat, huh?"

To maintain the upkeep of the palace, the servants quarters, tucked behind the kitchens, housed more than fifty maids alone. Anna followed Evelyn through a sea of curious eyes to the back. There the woman withdrew a heavy keyring with dozens of keys, and with it unlocked a chest. Then she turned to look at Anna.

"You're a skinny little thing, arne't you? Guessing you take a small?" she said.

"A small?" All her clothes were tailored to her own size, of course, like everybody else's.

"Yep, you look like a small to me," said Evelyn, tossing her a neatly folded square that looked like it might be smock. "Try that out for size."

Anna looked around. Raised one eyebrow. " _Here_?"

Evelyn crossed her arms, waiting.

"Fine… that's no problem…" Anna muttered, hurriedly pulling her dress from her head. She tried on her uniform: a neat looking dark smock with a white, starch-stiffened collar and an apron that could be detached. She tugged at the waist, where it was a little loose. "It's baggy," she said.

"What do you expect? Cinch it in later tonight when you've got time."

"Oh. Right…" A memory stirred to the surface of her consciousness. Her mother trying to teach her to embroider.

 _Anna, that's not bad. Is it meant to be one of the groundskeeper's dogs?_ her mother had asked, peering over at her handiwork. _It's a horse,_ she'd said.

Some memories, maybe, were best left undiscovered.

Evelyn gave her three smocks, informed her it was up to _her_ they were washed and she was tidy and presentable at all times, and showed her the room she'd be sharing with three other girls.

And then she set her to work.

"Direct orders from Mr Christian. You're to clean the bathrooms," she told her.

"Okay," said Anna, pumped and ready.

As though she hadn't quite understood, Evelyn reiterated, " _All_ the bathrooms."

Anna paused. "How many… exactly…"

"Twenty-three," said Evelyn.

"R-right."

* * *

An hour later and Anna was still cleaning the toilet in Bathroom Number One. She'd used a whole bottle of bleach and didn't know if that was right or not, only that right or not, that particular stain had to _go_.

Crouched on aching knees that were unused to kneeling, she craned her head round when she heard to door creak open.

"How's it going?" Evelyn asked.

"Fine," said Anna. "Absolutely fine."

Evelyn peered over at her. "You know that's iodine you're putting on the toilet, not bleach, don't you?"

Anna stared at the two bottles and their labels.

"Right… I knew that," she said.

* * *

By the time Anna got to Bathroom Number Five, her entire concept of time had vanished. All she knew was that her knees hurt, her eyes stung from cleaning fumes and she was so hungry it felt like her stomach was in the process of eating itself. In her dreams tonight, she imagined all she was going to see was porcelain white loo rims.

It didn't help that people kept interrupting her work to use the facilities. Worse than that, they were so _rude_. They acted like she wasn't even there. One man, literally, acted like she wasn't there and did his business right in front of her while she was scrubbing the bathtub.

She was beginning to wonder if this was really going to work. After all, how was supposed to get close to Elsa when she was stuck cleaning bathrooms? For a second, Anna imagined Ada and Queen Matilda having a good, hard laugh about the princess of Arendelle on her knees scrubbing loos.

She grit her teeth when she heard the door go. Not _again_.

"If you'd please wait just one second," she said in a calm, deliberate measure, "I'm very almost done."

"That's alright. I can wait."

Anna's head snapped round so fast she heard it click. She was forced to swallow down the call that wanted to burst from her throat: _Elsa!_

Her sister stood in the doorway, looking pensive. Anna forced herself to remember: that for all intents and purposes, she and Elsa were strangers now.

"Lady Elsa." Anna pushed herself up off her screaming knees. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

Elsa tucked a strand of hair behind her hair. Since when had Elsa started wearing her hair loose?

"It's a little unnerving," she said.

Anna paused. "What is?"

"Everyone's heard of me. Everyone knows my name. I'm not used to it."

Those words, from the Queen of Arendelle's lips, were so bizzare that for several seconds, Anna found herself staring blankly at her sister.

The awkwardness was palpable. "Right…" said Elsa. "I just came for a bath. I'll come back later."

As she turned to leave, Anna said, quickly, "I'll run you one." She grabbed a bottle of strawberry smelling bubblebath from the side. "Strawberry, right?"

The corners of Elsa's eyes crinkled. "How did you know?"

Anna smiled; shrugged. "A good guess," she said.

She poured Elsa her bath, sitting at the head of the claw-footed tub to mix int he bubblebath with her hand. Her eyes roamed over to Elsa, who stood by the mirror, adjusting her hair.

"What do you think?" Elsa said, lifting a portion of her hair. "What would look better? If I put my veil _here_ , or tucked it under _here?"_

_Oh geez. Has Elsa caught wedding fever now?_

"Maybe if you braided that part and wove the veil under it," suggested Anna.

"Like this?"

Anna stood. Her hands reached instinctively to Elsa's hair. She hesitated just in time. "May I?"

"Of course," said Elsa. Anna frowned: that wasn't right, either.

Anna braided her hair and held it in place to show her what she meant. "You'd just need to thread it through this part," she said, as she thought, _Elsa would never let a stranger touch her like this._

"Ah. I see. You know, that's a good idea," said Elsa, offering Anna a smile. "Thank you."

Under Elsa's gaze, Anna felt her cheeks colour. "It— it was nothing," she said. She quickly set her back to her and pretended to check the bathwater level.

What was wrong with her?

"What your name?" Elsa asked.

She spoke without thinking. "Ann—" She froze, kicking herself. _What am I doing? I can't give her my real name!_

"Ann?" Elsa said.

"Uh, yeah," said Anna, hiding a grimace.

She finished pouring the bath. Turning off the faucet she turned round to tell Elsa it was ready, and got such a shock her eyes felt like they would pop out of her sockets. Elsa had taken off her icy dress and was stood in her corset, peeling off her stockings.

"I— I should leave you," Anna stammered.

Balancing her hip against the sink she as rolled the stocking off her foot, Elsa glanced up at her. "Come help me with my corset, would you? I can never undo the hooks on my own."

Elsa offered her back to her, and with fumbling fingers Anna undid the silver clasps, all the while thinking: _This isn't right. This isn't Elsa._ For years, her sister acted like a germ freak. Even now, she was reticent around people. The only one she didn't mind touching her was… _Well, me, I guess._ And even then, she'd never stripped off in front of her quite so brazenly.

She helped Elsa out of her tight corset, and as she stepped out of her bloomers, looked away. But as Elsa stepped into the bath, she couldn't help but sneak a peek back. She'd always admired Elsa's skin. While her own was mottled with annoying freckles and she sometimes got spots, Elsa's skin was flawless. It was clear and perfect as moonlight. Or snow.

And somehow, on her, Elsa's freckles looked kind of cute.

Knelt by the head of the bathtub, Anna helped her wash her hair, kneading the shampoo into Elsa's scalp as she released a little sigh of contentment.

She couldn't think what on earth to say. Normally, she could garble on about almost anything, but her head felt empty. If she was at home she'd just slap a handful of bubbles on her face and say _ho-ho-ho_ , and Elsa would roll her eyes at her with a smile in her eyes, and they'd wind up laughing.

But this wasn't Elsa. This was somebody else.

Anna squelched another handful of shampoo into her hand and buried her hands in her long locks.

"Say, have you worked here long?" Elsa asked.

_I have to stop thinking about Elsa as my sister. Otherwise this isn't going to work._

"Since today, actually," she said.

"Today?" Elsa said in surprise.

"Yeah. And today's my first day in the Spring City, too."

As she'd hoped, Elsa asked where she was from.

"Arendelle," she said.

Elsa twisted in the tub to look at Anna. "Arendelle?"

"Maybe you've heard of it?"

A shadow of something passed over Elsa's face. Her eyebrows burrowed together like furry caterpillars. "No… I don't think I have. Is that where your family is from?"

"My mother and father passed away a few years ago, but my older sister still lives there."

"Ah, I'm sorry…" she saw Elsa bite down on her lip. "My parents are also no longer with us, so I understand."

"It's fine. It was… well, a few years ago now," said Anna.

There was a slightly glazed look in Elsa's eyes. "What's it like there? Arendelle?" she asked.

So Anna told her. About the snow-capped mountains and the morning light on the fjord and the long summer nights, when it never got dark. She was sure she could see some semblance of memory stirring in Elsa's eyes as she spoke.

And then it was gone.

"That sounds wonderful. I'd love to visit it one day," she said. Sighed. "Though there are a lot of places I'd like to visit… you have an older sister still there, you say?"

"Yes, though she's not well. I got a job here at the palace to send money back home for her."

"She's not well?"

_No, she's not…_

"You have my sympathy. I can only imagine how hard that must be." To her shock, she felt Elsa's wet fingers slide between her own as she squeezed her hand. "That's kind of you, to do all of this for your sister."

"Well, that's… it's nothing really…" under Elsa's eyes, she found herself flushing again. Her heart beat fast under her chest. Elsa's hand was wet and soft.

Her stomach took this moment to rumble. Loudly.

Elsa slid her fingers from her own and laughed, covering it with her hand. "When did you last eat?"

"Uh, well…" she thought back, and said, "since breakfast. Mr Christian wanted me to clean all the bathrooms and I haven't had a break since then."

Elsa's dark eyebrows were up in her hair. " _All_ the bathrooms?"

"Yep. I've, um, still got a few left to go."

"How many?" Elsa demanded. Anna paused, taken aback by the force in her voice.

"Maybe like, eighteen?"

"That's ridiculous," she said firmly. "Come with me back to my room. I'll get you something to eat."

She was about to say something when Elsa stood, sending flecks of water flying. With one hand, she swept a dressing gown of ice over her shoulders. "Come," she said. She held out her hand.

Anna hesitated only a second before she took it.

* * *

Anna's mouth was watering as she took in the glorious sight before her.

On the boudoir table, about the size of a child's hula hoop sat a tray stacked with individual, delicious, delectable, _divine_ looking chocolates. Anna was worried she might actually start dribbling.

"My fiance heard how I like chocolate and brought me these this morning. But, as much as I love chocolate…" her voice was a little embarrassed, "… I don't think even I can eat all these by myself."

Anna's eyes were saucers as she oogled the mountain of chocolate. Misinterpreting her silence, Elsa added quickly, "Or I could ring the bell the get someone from the kitchens to cook you something properly. You probably want some hot food since you've been working all day—"

"No. No, that's fine," Anna interjected. She grinned a huge grin. "I am, ah, more than happy, my ladyship, to help you with your dilemma of having too much chocolate."

That said, she picked up one square and sampled it, feeling the liquid silk caramel ooze into her mouth. She heard Elsa's giggles as she stuffed one after another into her face.

"Thi-ssh ish abshlutely delishous," she moaned, mouth full of toffees.

"I never thought I'd find someone who loved chocolate more than me, but I think I've got to admit defeat," Elsa laughed.

Too busy cramming her face full of as much fudge as she could, she didn't hear the knock at the door, or Elsa call for her visitor to come in. Anna thought her heart was going to stop when, smothered in chocolate with sticky fingers, she saw Christian stood in the door, arms folded, unimpressed.

"…Shhalted caramel?" she offered, cheeks popping like a squirrel's.

"Dorit told me you were harassing Lady Elsa, but I didn't imagine it would be as bad as this," he said drolly. "Now come with me and stop pestering her ladyship."

Anna swallowed, trying not to choke. "Of course, s-sir." Her heart sinking, she wiped her fingers on her apron and made to follow the butler.

"Wait just one minute." Anna looked back at the voice. Startled, she saw it: in her regal tone, her high head: Queen Elsa. "The only reason this young lady is here is because, as she's informed me, she hasn't eaten anything all day. As she's in your responsibility, don't you think it's you who's failed in your duty of care? This is unacceptable."

Christian looked like he'd just swallowed something rotten. "I never actually expected to try and clean _all_ the bathrooms," he said, adding grudgingly, "she has determination. I'll give her that."

But Elsa was unrelenting. "You'll give her three square meals a day, that's what you'll give her. As I expect all the staff here to receive. Unless you want me to speak to the Queen? As you might know, we're becoming fast friends."

The butler's face soured like an old yogurt. "That won't be necessary. I'll personally make sure she's looked after."

"Excellent," said Elsa, and she dropped the regal tone to squeeze Anna's hand. More gently she said: "Come see me again, when you've got time."

Struck dumb— and this time not from the toffee— Anna could only nod.

* * *

"Well, you got yourself in with the Lady Elsa very fast," Christian remarked, as Anna followed him down the hallway towards the servants' quarters. He looked her over with a suspicious gaze.

Anna shrugged.

The butler raised his eyes as though to ask for mercy and said, "Well, just don't make too much of a nuisance yourself. Lady Elsa's the Queen's new favourite right now."

"New favourite?" she enquired, trotting up alongside him.

He gave her a withering look. "Go see Emma. She might have some stew left over from dinner you can have."

* * *

Laying in the rough woollen sheets in an unfamiliar bed, Anna tossed and turned. An hour it'd taken her chatty roommates to settle down, and when they did Elin started mumbling in her sleep and Helen snored like a steam train.

 _It must be past three in the morning now_ , she thought.

 _Come see me again,_ Elsa had said. The warm feeling of her hand in hers. She wished she was here with her right now, so she wouldn't be so alone.

Anna gave up trying to sleep. Rolling onto her back she opened her eyes and stared out into the darkness.

* * *

**To be continued.**


	21. what is love?

"Ann. Hey, new girl. Wake up!"

Anna jerked awake. "What?"

Slowly, she came to, and took in her surroundings. The tidy bunk-room. Elin, already dressed in her uniform, stood over her with her hands on her hips. The bright light that streamed through the windows hurt her eyes.

"You sure are a heavy sleeper, Ann," Elin said.

She rubbed at her eyes. "What time is it?"

"Just past dawn," said Elin.

"Dawn?" Anna moaned. She rolled over, pulling her blanket back over her head.

"We get up at dawn every day," said Elin. "Where did you say you worked before, Ann?"

She stared into the darkness beneath the scratchy woollen blanket. _Right,_ she thought. There was a weariness in her bones. Pulling the blanket from her, legs aching as she swung them off the bed, she blinked against the sharp new light of the day.

Princess Anna would never willingly have risen so early. But then, she was Ann, now.

* * *

The servants of the Spring Palace took breakfast together at a number of long tables. The room was loud and cramped, full of chatter and laughter. Anna wove her way through the bodies, pulling at her tight starched collar, which chafed uncomfortably. Spotting an empty seat by her room-mate, she squeezed herself in. The young women at the table looked at her curiously.

"Aren't you eating, Ann?" asked Elin.

"Huh?"

She could hit herself; she'd just naturally assumed she would be waited upon.

"R-right!" she stammered, standing quickly. In the kitchen next door, one of the cooks was doling out breakfast. He ladled her a bowl of porridge, handing her a slice of toast.

"Settling in well?" he asked.

"Sort of…" she mumbled.

When she re-joined the table, the girls were full-flow in conversation.

"—Sounds like more work to me," Helen was grumbling.

Anna squeezed in between them, taking a bite out of her toast. Someone nudged the butter dish towards her.

"—Thankss," she said, mouth full of toast, as she reached for it and picked up her knife.

"I don't know," said Elin, waving her spoon animatedly. "I'm looking forward to the leftovers."

Lucille's head lolled back in rapture. "Do you remember Edward's debut? Oh-my. That souffle."

"Those sweet-rolls." Elin's sigh was a lover's caress.

"Is something happening today?" Anna asked, taking a mouthful of porridge. It would be so much better with just a spoonful of jam.

"Haven't you heard? It's lady Elsa's debut tonight," said Elin.

Her porridge slopped off her spoon back into the bowl. "Her debut?"

"I know, right?" said Elin. "Apparently she was pretty sheltered out in the country—"

"—Locked up by the Marquis, more like it," interrupted Helen.

Elin hit her with her spoon. "I'm talking. Anyway, this will be her first ball, so they're throwing a coming out party for her."

Helen was looking very sour.

"And then next week: left over wedding cake," salivated Lucille. "This month is going to be tasty."

"I'm just not looking forward to the cleaning up," Helen grumbled.

 _The Marquis kept her locked up all the time._ It begged the question: how many of Elsa's memories had been tampered with? Had some been left the same?

Plates cleared away, she was ready for her first full day of work. Under Evelyn's instructions, she was to shadow Elin and help prepare for the ball that evening.

It ended up being the most exhausting day of her entire life.

They dusted portraits in the ante-chamber; mopped floors; scrubbed, scrubbed, _scrubbed_ , until Anna's hands were red and cracked, irritated by the soap powder they were using. The back of her calves were still burning from all the kneeling and bending she'd done the previous day. The acrid smell of bleach made her head spin. Still: she scrubbed, scoured, polished, swept, mopped, buffed. At noon she and Elin broke for lunch, and she'd never realised before that food could taste so delicious. With her feet up, her soles seemed to ache more than ever. But she felt Mr Christian's beady eyes upon her, watching for any sign of weakness: she swallowed down her complaints.

That afternoon, they attended some of the guest rooms to tidy and strip the beds. Elin chattered easily and ceaselessly as they worked. Her mother before her was a maid: this was all the life she'd ever known. "Though once my beau _finally_ gets round to proposing, I'll quit," she said, whisking the sheet off the bed. "What about you, Ann? You have a sweetheart back home?"

Anna frisked out the fresh sheet, and Elin took hold of the other end. "I did, for a while," she said. "But… it didn't work out."

"What happened?" as Elin, as they made the bed together. After a dozen of them, Anna was beginning to get the hang of it.

"I don't know… at first it was fine between us. Great, even. I thought I loved him. But I…"

 _I didn't love him. I loved the idea of him. I loved the idea of love,_ she thought.

Elin clambered up onto the bed on her knees to tuck in the edges at the headboard. Anna did the other end. "You liked someone else?" Elin suggested.

The word left her in a breathy gasp: "No!"

" _There's no use hiding it now. I suppose it must be obvious… how much I want you."_

That night on the veranda. Her sister's icy fingers as they clutched at her. How she'd shivered under them. Wanted them to clutch her tighter.

"I…" she said.

She'd been drowning, and the thought had come to her in a moment of crystal clarity: that she loved her.

And yet, she still didn't know what love was. Her mother spun her a fairy tale out of silk, of white weddings and true love. Yet the silk threads snapped. Princes were a scam. You couldn't bottle true love. Her isolation had led to ignorance, and she was still only a child. Elsa was only a child, running away from her problems because she'd never learnt to face them.

What is love?

"Ann," Elin prompted her, startling her out of her thoughts. "You need to pull it straight. It's all wrinkly."

Maybe by the time all of this was over, she'd find out.

* * *

They were in the ballroom, far grander and larger than the one in Arendelle, Anna holding onto the ladder while Elin straightened the banners when Mr Christian came looking for her. His mouth was turned down in dissatisfaction.

"You've been asked for," he said.

"Asked for?" Anna said, holding the ladder steady.

"By Lady Elsa. She wants you to assist her in her preparations for the ball."

"Lu—cky," sang Elin, who'd been listening in from atop the ladder.

"Whatever did you say to her?" the butler asked.

"I'm sorry, sir, I don't follow?"

"Not only has Lady Elsa showed zero interest in a lady in waiting since she arrived, she's turned down all offers I've made of a personal maidservant. She's never personally asked for anybody. Except for you." Mr Christian's eyes bored into her. Anna tried her best to keep her expression passive. Inside her chest however, her heart was bursting.

* * *

She rapped on the door. Her chest expanded as she heard her sister call, "You can come in."

Inside, Elsa was sat at a table, set with a pretty tablecloth and tea and cakes. She gestured to the seat opposite her. "Come and sit with me, Ann."

Anna sat, taking an eyeful of the cakes. They were the little fancy ones: the kind Elsa had always loved.

"Mr Christian told me you wanted my assistance in preparing for the ball," she said.

Elsa waved this away. "That too. But I asked for you because I wanted to make sure you were okay after yesterday."

Elsa's concern set something inside her aglow. "I am, because of your help," she said.

Anna poured the tea, and Elsa bombarded her with a barrage of questions: was she eating well? How was she being treated? Did she have a proper bed?

"I'm flattered by your concern, my lady," she said.

"You don't need to call me that. Call me Elsa. I want us to be friends, after all."

That breath was knocked for her. About to put a cake to her lips, she paused. No need to make a repeat of yesterday's humiliation.

"Surely there's better people suited for that role," she said.

Elsa shook her head. "To tell the truth, I grew up with servants. I'm not used to," she extended her hand, "all this."

"This?"

"Court etiquette. What to say to the right people. What not to say. It's tiring."

"That's why you declined having a lady in waiting?"

"And have women paid to be my friends? I don't think so," said Elsa. "I'd rather make real ones."

"Do you… miss your home?" Anna asked.

"A little. Not the loneliness. And there was a lot of bad memories I was happy to escape. All the same, it was my home, glad as I was to leave it behind… do you miss your Arendelle?"

"I do," said Anna.

"Your sister must be very important to you." Both a question and a statement.

"She is."

The next hour she spent helping Elsa prepare for her debut.

"No ice dress today?" Anna asked, as she unlaced Elsa's gown and helped her step out of it.

"My fiance gave me a dress for tonight," she said, nodding to a wrapped package lying on the bed.

"You haven't opened it yet?"

"He's given me at least a dozen already," Elsa laughed.

Anna didn't like to think of Jareth: the thought of him made her whole body flush hot with anger. When Elsa showed no interest in doing it, she pulled off the stupid gaudy ribbons and opened the box. _Pathetic slimy prince. Does he really think he can win Elsa's affection with dresses?_

She shook the gown loose form its folds, making a noise at the back of her throat. As much as she'd like to deride Prince Jareth's taste, he'd chosen well. The gown was simple, and elegant in its simplicity. It was a pretty summer short-sleeved thing with a low cut back, striped in silver and blue.

"Prince Jareth has such a good fashion sense," Elsa said approvingly, as she showed it to her.

She could do without the approval, but it relieved Anna to hear her use Jareth's title. Her worst fear, that she dare not say aloud afear it might be true, was that Elsa, this Elsa, had feelings for the prince.

Yet the title inferred a respectful distance between the two. Even if memories could be altered, perhaps love could not.

She helped Elsa with the tricky hooks of her corset. Again, that sense of embarrassment from their closeness. Anna could feel the heat coming from her body. An overwhelming urge hit her: how easy it would be, simply effortless, to lean forward and wrap her arms around her, pull her into her.

"Ann?" Elsa enquired, feeling her hesitation.

"It got stuck," said Anna, hastening to fasten the silver eyelets, warmth colouring her body.

Sat at the boudoir table, Anna brushed out Elsa's hair, so beautiful and fine, silk running through her fingers.

She looked up to the mirror and saw a strange sight: Elsa-not-Elsa, beautiful and flawless, eyes closed in contentment as Anna pulled the brush through her hair. And she: Anna-not-Anna, in her unfamiliar clothes, hair scraped up into a severe bun, brushing her mistress's hair.

Her thoughts were running at full throttle: how she could bring Elsa back to the way she was; what she should say; what she should do.

And yet, there was a part of her that wasn't paying attention at all. The part inside her that just wanted to keep on brushing Elsa's hair; that expanded inside her chest, warm and glowing. Like sunshine, thawing out a winter fjord.

Just from brushing Elsa's hair.

She wondered again: _What is love?_

* * *

**To be continued.**


	22. her fearful symmetry

The Queen was unwell.

Though, Ada considered, _unwell_ wasn't the right word. Her Majesty hadn't had a single cough or cold in the entire count of years she'd known her. But something vital inside her was ebbing.

This wasn't the first time this had happened.

Perched by her bedside, Ada noticed how thin the Queen's skin was, like crinkled paper. Her eyes were closed, and the hand Ada held in her own was trembling.

"They'll manage well enough at the ball without you," Ada said soothingly. "You need to rest, Grandmother."

"You're a sweet child, Ada..." Her heart wrenched at the sound of the Queen's voice: it was weak and trembly, sounding nothing at all like the Queen she loved.

"Is there anything I can get for you? Do you want anything to drink?" she asked.

Watery eyes opened. She said something so small Ada couldn't catch it. She leant closer. "The Mirror," the Queen said. "I need to see the Mirror."

* * *

Liquid symbols spill under her touch; Celtic symbols and weird Aztec hieroglyphs, and the ancient oak door opens with a satisfying _click_. She has a jar full of moonbeams, illuminating the stairwell which unwinds like clockwork into a darkness darker than night. The Queen leans heavily against her, breaths coming in ragged gasps.

They are deep, deep beneath the Palace, now.

Click, click, _clack_. Footfalls scuffing against flagstones. The subterranean heat rises; Ada's hair sticks, slick, to the back of her neck. They are approaching the very epicentre of the Earth. A murmur hangs in the air, a final vibration of a tuning fork; the deep, pungent scent of old magic.

"We're almost there, Grandmother." In this place, her voice has no weight. It hangs, suspended, and is dispelled into nothingness.

The curling stairwell snakes out in a tadpole's tail, unfurling into a high-domed chamber, alive with flitting symbols.

In the centre of the room stands the Mirror.

Carved with runes from a civilisation crumbled eons ago, the Mirror stands taller than a man, and stands with nothing to hold it upright. Hairline fractures cover it in an intricate spider's web. Scars, from where shards of minute glass have been painstakingly replaced..

After decades of endless searching, only a handful of pieces are still missing.

She helps the Queen towards it, though as she hobbles forward, she leans her weight less and less on Ada. She lets go of her, her feet steadier, her stride certain. Presses her wrinkled palms against the fractured glass and breathes the word into the darkness: "Yes..."

Ada stays several feet from the Mirror, watching the runes skip across the surface like dragonflies on dark water. She can hear the sound of her own blood pounding in her ears.

Years ago, Queen Matilda told her the story: how long ago when an ancient lake was dredged, the Mirror was discovered. Back then, it was shattered almost beyond repair, half of the pieces missing. The Queen would have taken no notice of such a thing, but however... "Something drew me to it. I wiped away the dirt and looked into the glass, and saw a vision."

That vision led to years of fevered searching for the remaining pieces, in order to put the Mirror back together. Ada aided her in her quest, travelling the world with her in search for them.

The Mirror frightens her. Her _affinity_ with the Mirror, and its dark swirling depths, terrifies her. When she and the Queen come upon a shard, she can _feel_ it. It sings to her blood.

_I and the Mirror: we are both one and the same._

She sets her jar of moonbeams down. In the silence, echoing off the high walls, it makes a reverberating clatter.

The Queen turns to her. The _something_ that was missing from her has returned. She stands straight. "The Mirror has spoken with me: now we've obtained Elsa, we have all the magic we need. It will happen on the solstice," she says.

The solstice: one week from now.

"We need to make preparations," says the Queen.

Ada nods. She's suffocating.

* * *

**To be continued.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm delving into the original Anderson tale now here. For those unfamiliar with it and left baffled by this chapter: In The Snow Queen the Mirror is an evil artefact created by a mischievous and wicked sprite. It has the power "of causing all that was good and beautiful when it was reflected therein, to look poor and mean; but that which was good-for-nothing and looked ugly was shown magnified and increased in ugliness." But the sprite dropped the Mirror, and sent millions of splinters of it flying across the world.
> 
> Though, I am going to be fiddling with the lore somewhat for my own uses. ;)
> 
> Before people start to worry why this chapter is so short, have no fear! I split this chapter off a much longer one, and it'll be up as soon as I've typed and edited it.


	23. gifts and curses

"So. This is what a party looks like."

Standing on Prince Jareth's arm, Elsa took it all in. The ballroom, warm with the heat of many bodies, full of the buzz of conversation, was draped with banners in her family's colours. Through the murmur of voices musicians were playing.

"How do you feel?" asked the Prince. He cut a dapper figure beside her in a navy blue crushed velvet vest, blond hair tied elegantly at the nape of his neck.

"Excited," she said, adding, "nervous."

"Nervous? Why?" asked the Prince.

"Why…?" a quirk in the corner of her mouth. "I've never been to a party in my life. And now they're throwing one in my honour at the Royal Palace. With the Prince stood by my side. So you could say it's a little…"

"Overwhelming?" Prince Jareth supplied.

"That's one word for it…. But—" she gave his arm a friendly squeeze, "—it's in a good way. I won't forget the kindness your family has shown me."

Jareth smiled at her. She thought, for a brief moment, that it was a smile that didn't reach his eyes. But then he was offering her his hand, and all thoughts ceased entirely.

"As your fiance, it seems fitting I offer you your first dance," he said.

She felt the warmth drain from her. "Oh…"

"Is something wrong?"

"It's just that… I never learnt to dance."

_There are so many things I should know, but don't… what on earth were all those years for?_

But this, apparently, didn't deter the Prince. His smile widened, exposing a set of perfectly white teeth. "I'll just have to show you how then, won't I?"

Her protests fell on deaf ears. Elsa gave up and let him lead her by his gloved hand into the midst of the dancers. Approving eyes lighted on the couple, and Elsa felt herself reddening.

"I really don't think—" she started.

"Come now," the Prince said gently. "We'll take it slowly. It's really quite easy."

She gripped hold of him tighter. "…Okay."

And to Elsa's surprise, he was right. As the Prince showed her the steps and she picked them up, her iron grip on his arm started to slacken. She laughed aloud. It _was_ easy!

"Are you sure you haven't done this before?" the Prince teased her.

… _Have I?_ No one ever taught her how, and yet a sense of deja vu nagged at her. It was as though she'd done this before, but in another life.

_Why do I feel so sad?_

The feeling came out of nowhere. Rainclouds covering a clear sky; a profound melancholy that stole over heart and left her longing for something. But for what?

"My lady, are you alright?" At the Prince's concern, she started back to life, raising her drooping head.

"Yes! Of course."

…Because what possible reason would she have to feel sad? _I'm living at the palace. I'm marrying the prince. I've left all those bad things behind me._

Yet the feeling clung to her like condensation on glass.

The night wore on. Endless introductions. Countless names. The royal family had an endless plethora of male relatives, and having already met some of them, Elsa was introduced to countless more cousins, uncles, even nephews. Queen Matilda had ruled the Spring City for so long that the crown prince was in his sixties, and used a cane. Whilst she'd spent the night under the hot spotlight of a dozen eyes all curious to see the soon-to-be-princess, the crown prince barely spared her a glance. He gave her a gruff hello and continued pigging out at the buffet. If his double chin and great girth was anything to go by, this was a particular favourite hobby of his.

Elsa would never say anything aloud, but meeting Prince Jareth's relatives made her very glad the Queen had arranged the match between them, rather than some of the other alternatives…

As for the Prince himself, he was charming. A talented conversationalist, he was elegant, and a graceful dancer. Gazing up into his eyes, Elsa wondered why it was she felt nothing for him.

Her eyes pierced through the crowd. There, standing beside a cousin and an uncle with a tray of drinks, she saw her.

Excitement and nerves, but there was one more feeling she neglected to mention to the Prince: distraction.

Ann's uniform was slightly ill-fitting, a button loose at the collar. The cutest dusting of copper freckles covered her nose. Red hair was scraped up severely behind her head, and Elsa's thoughts wandered, and she wondered… what would it look like loose?

Since yesterday, she hasn't been able to keep her thoughts off the young maid. When their hands touched, she felt some connection pass through them; a silent understanding leaping between their fingertips. A good part of the evening she spent coming up with schemes to meet with her again… until it occurred to her that she could simply summon her.

Prince Jareth chattering by her side with a duke, she watched Ann, warmth growing and glowing like a talisman in her chest. A hand she placed over her heart.

 _Ridiculous,_ she chided herself. _I thought I'd heard of everything, but a crush on a maid?_

Yet it was strange. Ann was a girl, and yet the way Elsa felt felt absolutely natural. Looking at her, Elsa felt a sense of peace inside her she hadn't felt for many years, since she was a small child.

"Why, Elsa! What a treat to see you again. Congratulations on your debut."

Elsa's head snapped back. Her hand fell from her chest. It was Lady Ilia.

Several months ago, though it felt far longer than that now, the Queen visited Elsa's home in the moors. That huge empty house, always perfectly polished and dusted; immaculate; pointless.

"There are several others like yourself, Elsa, who live at the Palace," the Queen had explained to her.

"Forgive me, your Majesty, but I think there are few like me…" Elsa had replied.

She'd thought herself alone with her gifts, but that day, she'd learnt otherwise. "There are four others, whom I'm privileged to call friends, who possess the gift of magic. I'd like it very much if you would join them, and me."

She found herself apologising again: "Your Majesty… forgive me, but I don't follow."

"Marry my grandson Jareth. I'd like you to become part of my family, Elsa Austenborg."

The long, empty room. The heavy ticking of the grandfather clock, counting away useless seconds. Tears came to her eyes.

"Your Majesty… I'd be honoured."

There was nothing left for her there. Nothing at all.

Here, she was no longer alone. Her eyes took in Ilia, a large elegant lady somewhere in her thirties, fanning herself behind an ornate fan. They'd been introduced once before, and despite the crude twist to her mouth, she laughed loudly and seemed genuine.

And like herself, she had powers.

Fanning herself, Ilia took a sip of her drink. She cringed. "If it wasn't enough of a pig-roast already in here, the punch is warm."

With a flick of her finger, Elsa's magic blossomed and several ice cubes clinked into Ilia's glass. She held it up to eye level, impressed.

"You must be handy to have around on a hot day," she remarked. "How long have you been able to do that?"

"As long as I can remember."

"And you always have control over it?"

"Of course," said Elsa.

Ilia was still admiring Elsa's handiwork. "It's a neat trick," she admitted, and the corners of her mouth curved upward. "Want to see one of mine?"

A fish with glittering silver scales swam past her eyes. Elsa did a double take. A fish! She looked upwards, to see schools of salmon, flitting before the mural on the roof. A landscape of cherubs and angels at play, fish swimming amongst them. A noise of astonishment left her mouth in a stream of bubbles. She clasped her hands to her mouth in panic. They were underwater!

Both Ilia and Prince Jareth were laughing. "You can breathe, you know," Ilia said. "It's not real."

Uneasily, Elsa removed her hands and took a cautious breath. She exhaled a bubbly sigh of relief. "It's just an illusion," she said, gazing about her, at the other, oblivious revellers, through the distorted blur of the water. Light filtering in from the windows set the particles floating in the water a-sparkle. "You got me. This is far better than ice cubes," she admitted. She still couldn't believe her eyes.

A snap of Ilia's fingers, and it all vanished. "But in the end, as you said, it's just an illusion," she said. "I can't _physically_ create something, as you can, Elsa."

"I'm shocked. Modesty, from you, Ilia?" Prince Jareth teased her. Ilia responded by swatting him with her fan.

Old thoughts encroached on Elsa's mind. She had to ask. "Our powers. Do you think they're gifts, or curses?"

Ilia's curious eyes. "Why do you ask?"

"I guess… I can't help but think how my life would have been completely different without my powers. If my father hadn't closed the gates. What kind of life I might have lived."

Ilia considered her words. "There's a scientific principle…" she started, "that all the energy in the universe: used to grow a tree, or to run, or to boil a kettle, is never expended. It's just transferred into something else. Nothing is ever lost. In other words: the world is always in balance. Everything reverts to zero.

"It's true that many of us haven't led easy lives due to our gifts. Ask Ada, or Khublan. It's something I've thought about a lot too, and my conclusion is that there's a cost. There has to be a curse to cancel out the blessing of our powers. To keep the world balanced at zero. Or else, who knows what could happen?"

Elsa spun a gorgeous crystalline snowflake out of the air, cupping it between her hands. It was beautiful, and cold. The same way most of her twenty-one years of life had been.

The cold never bothered her, but Elsa could never truly get warm, either.

Was that the curse she carried inside of her?

Her thoughts drifted, like falling snow, to Ann. She hadn't known her a day and yet somehow…

Her hands closed over the snowflake, which vanished.

…She made her feel warm.

* * *

The night for Anna hadn't been nearly as eventful. It went as thus: someone took a drink, and someone else took another drink. People took more drinks, until she had no more drinks and returned to the kitchens and made the treacherous journey back upstairs, praying not to spill anything. Rinse and repeat. The nobles completely ignored her, and the only time anyone had spoken with her was when a man yelled at her for getting wine on his jacket— despite the fact it was _him_ who bumped into _her_.

Anna swallowed the fiery retort, even if it burned the whole way down. _When all of this is over, Elsa's going to owe me a palace made of chocolate to make up for this._

Mostly though, she just felt bored. Even if it was a boredom offset with anxiety. Queen Matilda was apparently feeling unwell and couldn't make it to the ball, but there was still Prince Jareth to worry about. He'd seen Princess Anna of Arendelle, and though she didn't expect him to recognise her in Ann the servant girl, she was still wary, and endeavoured to stay out of his way.

Punctuated through the evening were moments when she caught snatches of Elsa. The crowd would move and suddenly she'd be there, talking animatedly with someone. The crowd would swallow her, and later spit her out and she'd reemerge, laughing with a duchess.

She looked truly lovely. And so at ease. Only watching her now did it occur to Anna how tense her sister usually was in a crowd. She was polite and genial… but she never looked as though she was having a good time.

But _this_ Elsa, not-Elsa, laughed and danced, her eyes lighting on everything new and fresh with unabashed curiosity. Anna's breath was snatched from her when she saw Elsa conjure a snowflake in her hands in complete ease, no hint of tension in her shoulders.

If she'd ever seen Elsa do that before, the memory of it had been forever stolen from her.

The crowd shifted, and Elsa was lost to her again. Someone took a drink. Someone else took another. Anna's thoughts came loose from their moorings, and drifted. She stared at the rosemaling without seeing.

"Ann?"

She started so hard she jogged her tray, wine splashing from the tops of the glasses. "E-Elsa?" she stammered. "Oh- oh no!" In slow motion, the wine glass seemed to topple.

Quick as a flash, Elsa froze it before it could splash and make a mess on the ground. With a clink, it hit the floorboards.

"G-good save, Elsa," she said, setting the tray down on the buffet table. She lent down to pick up the frozen glass.

"I'm sorry to have startled you."

"No, it's my fault. I was… daydreaming."

Inside, she was berating herself. _Of all the times to makes a clumsy ditz of myself._ Her cheeks were burning as she picked up the pieces of ice.

She heard a distinct, pointed, _giggle_.

"What… what is it?" she asked nervously.

Elsa was laughing, covering it behind her hand. "I'm sorry. It's just, I was thinking how cute you look when you're embarrassed."

… _What?_ She was sure her mouth must be gaping open like a trout's.

—That was then she noticed Mr Christian. He was stalking through the crowd, eyes flashing. Anna ducked down further, hiding behind the volume of Elsa's dress. "Rats!" she exclaimed. She ignored the odd looks she got from the people in the crowd.

"What is it?" asked Elsa.

"Mr Christian," she whispered in agitation.

"The butler?"

"If he sees I'm not working, he's going to tan my hide," she said, peering round Elsa's gown to see the butler approaching closer. She heard Elsa's laughter. She wasn't taking this very seriously at all!

"Elsa!" she hissed.

"We'd better go then," said Elsa, quite calmly. Anna raised her face to find her offering her hand. "Come," she said.

Anna took it.

Elsa leading the way, they rushed through the cracks in the crowd, diving their way between people.

By the time they slammed behind the heavy velvet curtains into a secluded alcove, she and Elsa were both laughing.

"I think— I think we lost him," she gasped, breathing hard. It was dark behind the curtains, and her leg nudged against something hard, furniture pushed out of the way to make space for the ball.

As she caught her breath, it occurred to her that she couldn't see anything.

"…Elsa?" she asked.

Her voice came back, close by: "I'm here."

Gingerly, she reached out, and her fingers found something warm. She recoiled. "—Oh."

"What's wrong?" said Elsa.

"N-nothing. It's just…" she pressed a hand to her heart. It was beating like a baby bird's.

Fingers brushed her cheek. Her vision starting to adjust to the dark, she saw the whites of Elsa's eyes.

…Yet this wasn't Elsa. It was not-Elsa.

… So why did she look at her with those same eyes? Eyes with the same longing and love she'd looked at her with, the night of the masquerade ball.

" _I suppose it must be obvious…how much I want you."_

It was her, Anna realised, with a rush of emotion. _She's in there. It's still her._

"I'm sorry," said Elsa. "I'm sure you're thinking how strange this to you, but…"

"Please. Tell me what you're thinking."

A moment of hesitation. "—That ever since I saw you, I've wanted to kiss you."

So many reasons why she shouldn't be doing this: their sisterhood; what their parents would think; what everyone would think.

One reason why she should: because she adored her.

Mouth full of cotton wool, Anna could barely get the words out: "Kiss me, then."

Elsa's lips closed over hers. A gentle kiss, chaste as a butterfly kiss. Yet that alone was enough. Ripples of light skipping over the still surface of the water, Anna shivered. Hands tangled in her own.

"You're shaking," said Elsa.

"Y-yeah." She'd started trembling and couldn't stop. Her whole body was a live wire, attuned to Elsa. When she touched her, it sent sparks of shooting stars ricocheting through her skin. She'd never felt such a keen awareness of her own body before.

"Y-you're shaking too," she said, feeling the tremor beneath Elsa's skin.

"I wonder why…" Elsa said. She kissed her again. Bumped noses. Laughed. Wasn't kissing— the idea of kissing— absurd?

Elsa's fingers slipped from hers to wrap around her waist, pulling her into her. She was so soft, and warm. She'd never felt Elsa so warm.

Distantly, as though from underwater, she heard the announcement that the Queen was joining the party. Nestled against Elsa's collarbone, it was hard to rouse herself to attention. Her sister smelled like home.

Reluctantly she said, "You… should probably go. The Queen will want to talk to you. They'll start to wonder where you've gone soon, if they haven't already."

Elsa's reluctance was tangible. "Mmm… I guess you're right." She let go of her, and instantly, Anna regretted it. She clasped hold of her hand.

"Can I… can we…?" Her mouth was cotton wool again. She didn't even completely know what she was asking.

Elsa, as usual, summed it up far more succinctly: "Can you come to my room tonight, after the ball?"

She'd have to find some way to sneak out, without waking anyone. There were the guards to deal with, but… "I will," she said.

After Elsa ducked back out from under the curtains, Anna waited a few minutes in the dark, to be safe.

Even then, her hands wouldn't stop shaking.

* * *

**To be continued.**

* * *


	24. midnight

Anna waited in the dark, eyes fixed on wooden slats of the top bunk until she heard the sound of snoring. Outside, it was raining. A spring shower. Gentle _pitter-patter_ on the windowsill.

There was no way she could be one hundred percent sure that the other three girls were asleep, but Anna decided to risk it. Silently, she pulled the horsehair blanket from her and slipped barefoot onto the stone floor. God, it was cold!

She crept quietly to the door, clumsily reaching for the handle. Her heart stopped when Elin's sleepy voice rose like a cloud: "Ann… is that you?"

Anna winced. "Yeah," she whispered.

"Where—" her words were punctuated by a yawn, "—are you going?"

"To the bathroom," she lied.

"O-oh." The word captured in a yawn. The slump of her dark silhouetted as she rolled back over, followed by the sound of snuffly sleep-breathing.

Anna let out the breath she didn't realise she was holding.

The kitchen and dining room were empty. Treading through them carefully, Anna could hear her heartbeat in her ears.

Upstairs, the corridors in the castle were dark, dimly lit by the phosphoresce of the gas lamps. Anna's footsteps echoed. Just when she'd almost made it to Elsa's room, she froze.

 _Whispers_.

Wrenching open the closest door, Anna dove inside, just in time before the voices came round the corner. She caught a few words: "—I promise, this won't change a thing between us—"

As the voices faded, she let the door creep back open a little, and caught sight of a familiar person, his arm cinched round the waist of one of the page boys.

"The Hair," Anna murmured, watching Prince Jareth and his midnight companion vanish into the dark. That was a twist, Anna considered, though she paused when she thought about who it was _she_ was going to see.

Anna was about to squeeze back out into the corridor when she caught a glimmer of something behind her.

What was it?

The room she found herself in was completely bare, apart from a couple of old chairs with broken legs. And behind them at the back, a door. It was an old oak door. Curiously, she approached it. The doorknob, which her hand lighted upon, was carved into the shape of some kind of creature.

She saw it again: a glimmer in the corner of her eye. There was something _moving_ in the woodwork. Something alive.

Something that felt familiar.

Without thinking, Anna found her hand turning the doorknob. It rattled, and didn't open. Anna tried again, but the door was firmly locked.

Anna removed her hand, shaking her head to clear away the muggy thoughts. What did it matter anyway?

* * *

Another door, embossed with a snowflake, opened.

"Did anyone see you?" Elsa asked, ushering her inside and closing the door behind her. She wore a long nightgown constructed of glittering crystals of ice.

"No," said Anna, before she asked, "Did you wait long?"

"No," said Elsa.

As they stood, hovering by the door, looking at each other, Anna felt her cheeks fill with colour.

"S-sorry," she said, bowing her head.

"For what?" Elsa asked softly.

"You're all I've thought about since the ball. I was so distracted during the clean up I dropped a tray of glasses. And now I'm here, and you're here, and… I can't think of a single thing to say." A breathy, nervous laugh. She glanced up at Elsa, expecting her to look at her weirdly. Instead, Elsa was smiling. The corners of her mouth curled into deep dimples.

"What?" Anna asked, immediately suspicious.

"You're adorable," said Elsa.

" _Elsa_!" she exclaimed, fingers curled up tight, flushing brighter.

"What?" Elsa said, fingers cupped over her mouth to cover her laughter.

"You can't just say things like that. 'You're adorable.' It's embarrassing," she complained.

Something Elsa said at the ball blossomed back into her mind: _You're cute when you're embarrassed._

It felt so mean to be teased this way, by _Elsa_ of all people.

…Though, if she was honest, it wasn't that she _disliked_ it.

Elsa drifted to her boudoir, and poured for herself a drink of something gold and butterscotch coloured. A sparkle of her fingers, and she added several ice cubes. She poured Anna one too.

"Ice?" Elsa asked, arching an eyebrow.

This Elsa was such a show-off!

They sat together on the end of Elsa's silk queen-sized bed, beneath the canopy, and talked. Anna clutched the cool tumbler between her flushed fingertips. They spoke about the ball, gossipped about the princes, and Anna raved about the leftovers and how Lucille had totally pigged out.

Yet a respectful space was left between them. And Anna begun to wonder what Elsa's teasing amounted to. Had that kiss between them really meant anything? Poking an ice cube floating in the butterscotch liquid, she wondered why it was she felt relief and disappointment both.

Until Elsa's voice dropped into an almost husky murmur. She said: "You look beautiful with your hair down."

"Y-you look beautifuler," Anna stammered. No amendment to this was needed: Elsa knew what she meant.

"Can I kiss you?"

"You don't have to a-ask!" Anna said, exhaling a breathy, embarrassed laugh.

So Elsa kissed her, and it felt like marshmallows, sinking into gooey delicious hot chocolate.

And to think: all those months wasted on kissing Kristoff, and she'd never realised kissing could feel like this.

They pulled back for breath, and Anna exhaled a shaky, shuddery laugh. "Was that as good for you as it was for me?"

Elsa's eyes sparkled like diamonds. "I need a second tasting. Kiss me again, so I can make sure."

They kissed, and kissed again until she felt light-headed. The warmth of Elsa's mouth and skin and fingers clutched round the ice of her dress: why did it all feel so good?

They must have stayed up til three in the morning: talking; kissing; delighting in one another's company. Finding how their hands fit together (re-finding, for Anna,) confiding secrets.

For all the differences in Elsa's behaviour, when she talked about her past, she sounded like Anna's sister again. Not-Elsa lived in a mansion, not a castle. But in that mansion there were servants called Kai and Gerda. Her bedroom was still on the third floor and the step by the landing that was always creaky, was still creaky. Anna couldn't help but think: what was it in Elsa's memories that had been tampered with, to create such a drastic change in her person?

Mostly though, Anna didn't think at all that night.

When she at last succumbed to sleep, it was nestled by Elsa's side, surrounded by her arms and cocooned by the warmth of her love.

She woke just before dawn.

The light that crept in through the windows was thin and pale. The rain had stopped in the night. Anna felt utterly at peace in Elsa's arms, but she forced herself up. _If I'm not back in the dorms by morning, it's going to look more than suspicious._

Still, as she straightened her hair in the mirror, she couldn't help but focus, in the reflection, on Elsa's sleeping face.

_God, she's beautiful. I never noticed how beautiful she was before._

A thought came to her. Something someone else once said: **A true love's kiss, perhaps?**

Shuffling up on her knees on the _zip_ of the silk sheets, Anna knelt by Elsa's side. Moved a tendril of hair from her eyes.

Their lips met.

Nothing changed.

Anna hadn't seriously expected it to work, but she didn't expect the disappointment that now crashed onto her in waves, either. Fingers bit into her palms. Tears crowded her eyes. A lump like a small ball rose up into her throat.

"I will help you, Elsa," she vowed, in a voice small and tight with emotion. "I don't know how yet, but I will. _I will_."

* * *

**To be continued.**


	25. watching you without me

"Are you sure this is the best place to do this?" asked Elsa.

The crystal solarium, bursting with with the scents of earthy, aromatic plants, hardly seemed the best place to exercise her powers. She stood facing Lady Ilia, some fifteen feet apart. Glass hexagons cast rainbows. When Ilia had asked if she wanted to test her powers against hers, this wasn't quite what she'd imagined. "What if I break something?" she called.

"That's why I suggested the solarium. A bit of a challenge spices things up a bit, right?" said Ilia.

"I'll have to take your word for it."

"Besides," said Ilia, "if you broke something, you'd just have to rebuild it for us, wouldn't you?"

A smile grew at the corner of Elsa's mouth. "I suppose I could. Though if I encase you in ice, it's going to hurt."

Ilia's answering smirk. "That's because, Elsa dear, you're working on the assumption you'll be _able_ to hit me."

They weren't alone in the solarium. A small interested crowd had gathered, including several of the princes and a dark skinned tall and silent man she knew only as Khublan. Several members of staff were trying very hard to look like they were doing something.

Ilia was clearly trying to invoke a competitive rise from her. Well, Elsa had a waiting audience. Why not?

So Elsa dumped a pile of snow on Ilia's head.

— Or, the space where she was standing, a second ago.

The snow hit the mosaic floor. Elsa spun round, eyes flashing, to see Ilia stood behind her, covering her hand over her mouth in a mock yawn.

"How did you…?"

"You'll have to try harder than that, dear."

More snow. Elsa whipped round, to see Ilia standing back round the other side, as though she'd never moved. When Elsa attacked again, she found Ilia sat up in a palm tree.

Hands on her hips, she huffed, "Not _fair_!"

"Fair is relative," sung Ilia.

"You're moving too fast," Elsa said, crystallising the palm tree, before she felt a finger tap her on the back.

Stood right behind her, Ilia smiled. "I'm not moving at all."

* * *

"Two sugars, please, honey," Ilia said. Under the speckled sunlight filtering in through the banyan trees, Anna set the tea tray down at the wickerwork table where Ilia sat comfortably. She spilt some of the sugar, unable to keep her gaze from Elsa.

"Umm… is Lady Elsa alright?" she was forced to ask.

Elsa was running around, shouting at trees, and covering everything in snow.

"I'm just teasing her a little," said Ilia with a wink. "A little cream for my tea, too, if you wouldn't mind."

Anna added in a dollop of cream, glancing up to see Elsa dump an avalanche of snow all over the mosaic floor.

"Escape _that_ , if you can—" Elsa cried in triumph, before— "Huh?"

Anna stifled a giggle. Behind her, some of the princes were laughing. Elsa looked at them, bewildered, and turning to Anna raised her hands as though to ask, "What?"

Never in her life had she seen Elsa behave so unashamedly _silly_ before. Anna couldn't look away. How wonderful it was to see her so carefree, so at ease with her powers. _Playing_ with her powers.

_This must be how things were when Elsa and I were little, before the accident._

The thought struck her: _The accident. If that never happened, Papa would never have closed the gates. And Elsa would never have started being scared of her powers. That's what Khublan removed from her memories._

And yet, that didn't feel a hundred percent accurate. Something else was missing from this Elsa. Something major in her life, without which there would have been no accident, no closing of the gates, no solitude, no fear.

It was, she realised with mounting horror: _Me._

It was _Anna_ the sorcerer removed from Elsa's memories.

Without Anna, Elsa might still be laughing and playing with her powers, like this. As though they were something to play with, rather than a curse, a burden like a heavy coating of snow resting upon her shoulders.

She'd been wrong all along in her assumption. That wasn't not-Elsa. This was the Elsa she should have been.

"Go get us another pot of tea, would you darling?" Ilia instructed her. "I think Lady Elsa will need a drink when she's finishing with all that running around."

It was all Anna could do to manage out a trembling, "Y-yes Ma'am."

Once she was out of the solarium, her pace quickened. She needed to be alone. By the time she flung herself into the empty room she'd discovered last night, she could no longer choke back the robs that rose to her throat. She let them go.

 _It was because of me,_ she thought. _If I was never born, if I wasn't her sister, Elsa would never have… she would have been—_

 _Happy,_ Anna thought dully.

Since the thaw, she'd always thought she and Elsa needed one another. Now, she realised that maybe, it was her who needed Elsa more.

"Anna, are you alright?"

At the sound of her real name, she started, whirling round to see the strange locked door stood open. And there, in the doorway, stood—

"Elsa!" she gasped. "You— you remember?"

Had the spell been broken?

In a few brisk steps, the space between them dissolved, and Anna clasped Elsa to her.

"I can't believe you're really back," she breathed.

"Anna, I'm sorry, but I'm not your sister."

Pulling away, Anna blinked at Elsa in confusion. Like ripples spreading across still water, the illusion began to falter. Elsa wasn't this tall. She was missing the freckles from across her nose. The longer Anna looked, the less the girl resembled her sister. She joined the last of the dots.

"Ada," she said, stepping away. "I'm sorry. I thought—"

"I understand," said Ada.

Disappointment hit Anna like a punch to the gut. For a moment, she really thought the spell was broken.

_But would Elsa really want me to break it?_

"What's wrong, Anna?" Ada asked.

"I'm starting to have second thoughts," Anna admitted. "About— getting Elsa's memories back."

"What do you mean?" Ada asked, frowning.

"Elsa seems so happy here… far more so than at home," Anna said. "I guess I never noticed… or made myself not notice— how much pain she was in. I never realised how much her powers were a burden on her, even after she thawed Arendelle."

 _She must have hated herself for her feelings towards me,_ Anna thought. _That's why she flipped out, and her powers went out of control when I kissed her at the masquerade ball. She'd been hiding it for a long time._

_Why didn't she just tell me? Surely she must have known that I could never hate her for anything she did._

But she remembered back to what Elsa said: " _If you're disgusted, I'll understand. That would be a reasonable reaction. And if you don't want to see me anymore, that's fine too. I can stay out of your way from now on. That's fine."_

The locked doors might have been gone, but only now did Anna realise the distance that remained between them. Even during their slumber parties, lying by side-to-side, close as skin-to-skin, Elsa hadn't been with her.

With a dropping feeling in her stomach, Anna understood how hard those moments must have been on her sister.

Why couldn't Elsa just have _talked_ to her?

"So what are you intending?" Ada asked. "Leave her here in the illusion?

"Well—" Anna swallowed. It sounded bad when you put it like _that_.

"And what would you do? You're not suggesting you'd stay here, pretending to be a maid, are you?"

Anna pursed her lips. That _had_ been what she was thinking, and Ada must have seen it on her face.

"You're the princess of Arendelle," said Ada. "What about your country?"

It was a perfectly sensible reminder, which was probably why it infuriated Anna so much. She burst out: "What about Elsa? What about _her_ happiness?"

For years, Elsa gave up everything to protect her. She distanced herself from Anna to protect her. And now Elsa was happy, Anna wanted to do what? To drag her back to Arendelle so she could live in fear again? So she could despise herself again?

Because, once Elsa remembered that Anna was her sister, she'd no doubt the affair they were embarking on would be quickly ended. Whatever it was they had for one another…

That would all be over.

"Come with me, Anna. There's something I need you to see," Ada said.

"Huh?"

Ada stood by the strange door, beckoning her with her hand. "Come. There are things you need to understand."

Anna followed her.

Inside was darkness. Dimly, she saw a spiral staircase winding its way down, lit only by a faint glimmer that ran over the rock like water-boatmen skittering over a pond. Hung from a peg on the wall, Ada picked up a jar filled with bright, silver light.

"What is this place?" Anna asked, and her voice echoed. Ada descended down the stairs, and she followed her.

"Magic has seeped into this place," Ada explained.

"Magic?"

"Long ago," Ada said, her boots clicking against the rough hewn stone, "Queen Matilda discovered an ancient magical artifact sunk to the bottom of Speil lake, thought lost for centuries. If the legends are true, it contains untold magical power."

Watching the glimmer dance from stone to stone, entranced, Anna asked, "What does this have to do with Elsa or me?"

"You'll see," said Ada.

The further down they travelled, the hotter it became. Anna rubbed at her sticky neck, wondering how much further they needed to travel.

_It seems to go on forever._

By the time the staircase finally bottomed out, the back of her calves were aching. She looked up and found herself in a high-domed chamber. In the centre stood a large, cracked mirror.

It seemed to draw her in.

"Don't get too close," Ada warned her, voice rising sharply.

Anna stopped, looking back at the seeress. "Why?"

"The legends say it was created by wicked sprites to do evil."

And yet, thought Anna, there was nothing foreboding about the Mirror. Despite Ada's warning, she couldn't help but take several steps more forward, to peer into the dark glass.

—To find somebody inside, peering back out. Anna stumbled back in shock.

"My sister!" she gasped. " _Elsa_ ' _s_ in the mirror!"

Even as she spoke, Elsa smiled, and raised her hand to give her a little wave.

"The Mirror has the same magic as I do," Ada said unhappily. "It'll show you the thing you want the most."

"The thing I want the most?"

"Your heart's desire."

Anna's cheeks pinkened. Elsa was still smiling, hands clasped in front of her skirt. Anna pulled her eyes away from her to look at Ada. She changed the conversation:"So— what does any of this mean?" she asked, loudly.

"Look there. You see how several of the pieces are missing?" Following Ada's gaze, Anna saw how several large slivers of mirror were gone. The Mirror was incomplete. "For years I've helped the Queen collect the missing pieces of the Mirror. But that's not the only thing she needs to complete it. To do so, the Queen needs people with strong magical powers."

"That's why she needs Elsa."

"Yes. The wedding isn't important. The Queen was never interested in Elsa marrying Jareth, she just needed a reason to lure her here. The solstice is coming up, the day when magic is at its strongest. On that day, Queen Matilda will use our magic to complete the Mirror."

"And then what will happen?" asked Anna.

"Honestly… I'm not sure," Ada said, her voice softening. "The Queen says we will achieve eternity. What that means, she hasn't confided in me. Whether it will warp the laws of the universe, or bring back someone from the dead… I've no idea. Maybe it'll do no harm at all… but…"

"You think something bad will happen?"

"I don't want to find out," Ada said, firmly. "I understand how you must feel about the Queen, Anna, but she used to be a wonderful woman. But year after year I've seen her become more and more obsessed by the Mirror. She's become a slave to it. All the texts refer to the Mirror as an evil artifact, and I fear it's poisoned her. I don't want to see what becomes of her, and us, when it's finally complete." She strode to Anna, and squeezed her hands. "That's why you must wake Elsa from her spell, Anna. She's being used in the Mirror's machinations. You have to take her home, before it's too late."


	26. 120 hours remaining

Lying in the dark, Anna listened to the sweet sound of birdsong as all the birds around the castle began their morning dawn call. She could feel the rise and fall of Elsa's chest. Hear her snuffly sleep breathing. When the pale light began to filter in, Anna untangled herself from the cocoon of Elsa's arms and slipped out of the warmth of the bed into the chill morning air.

She couldn't risk discovery by staying. No matter _how_ tempting it was to stay.

Pulling on her shoes, she closed the door quietly behind her, as not to wake Elsa. She begun the silent, solitary journey back to the dormitory.

But, she hesitated.

Like the moon tugging at the tides, she felt a _pull_.

Surely, Anna had time for a _slight_ detour…

Footfalls descended into the dark. The seemingly never-ending spiral staircase, at last, bottomed out and Anna sat, a cross-legged schoolchild, in front of the Mirror.

"Elsa… what am I doing wrong?" she asked.

Mirroring her actions, the Elsa in the glass sat down, offering a sympathetic smile.

"Guess you don't know either, huh?" said Anna. She pulled up her knees to herself, burying her head between them. Her muffled voice: "I _must_ be getting desperate. Asking your advice, and you're not even real."

She still didn't know how to break the spell, and they were running out of time.

* * *

No matter how hard Anna tried to hold onto them, the precious remaining days left to them slipped between her fingers like sand.

She and Elin laid out a picnic in the garden, attending on Elsa, Ilia and Countess Caroline. The day was sunny and beautiful, tulips bright and decked with dew, so warm that Anna loosened the buttons on her collar.

Inside her head, however, was a stifled panic that only grew louder. Because there were _only five days left_. Five days to break the spell, and here she was _curtsying_ and _pouring tea_ , unable to even speak to Elsa properly.

Laughter in the garden. The Countess whistled her over as though she was a dog. "More tea," she said.

Anna's hands shook as she poured the china tea pot, both from indignation and the silent panic mounting inside her.

"And more of those chocolates," the Countess demanded.

That night, lounged in Elsa's silk sheets, eyes closed and expectant, Elsa popped one into her mouth.

"Saved some for you from earlier," Elsa said, eyes twinkling. "How is it?"

After the plain staple foods they served up at the servants' table, the truffle melted in her mouth, dragging an obscene sounding _moan_ from Anna.

A raised eyebrow from the other girl. "You're going to make me jealous."

She promised her: "You taste better," before tangling her fingers in blond hair and tasting all the sweet flavours of Elsa's mouth.

Laying in Elsa's bed with her, kissing her, whispering and laughing: it made everything else in her head vanish. When the occasional thought swam up through saturated waters to her consciousness— _this is wrong—_ Elsa's touches, Elsa's kisses, _Elsa_ quickly drove it back down to the depths.

As the date drew closer, wedding preparations were kicked into top gear. A staple now by her side, Anna waited on her lady as she picked out the floral arrangements for the day. Her heart leapt when Elsa picked out one of the more unusual choices.

The florist didn't bother to hide her surprise. "Certainly, my Lady. It's not a particularly popular choice, but we can definitely make you an arrangement with crocuses."

"I've always liked them," Elsa said.

The crocus, after all, was the symbol of their house.

Small moments like this elated Anna: made her think they were making progress. But in the same measure:

"—and it was part of the first bouquet Prince Jareth gave me. So I thought it'd be fitting," Elsa continued.

Thus, Anna wondered if it meant anything at all.

_And there were four days remaining._

Resentful that she hadn't been able to spend the morning with Elsa and was instead forced to buff and polish all twenty of the crown prince's stinky shoes, Anna's thoughts spiralled towards incoherency.

_What do I do?_

_Why on earth didn't I figure out a way to contact Admiral Westergard before I barged into this mess? I'm such an idiot._

_Did I do the right thing, sending Kristoff away?_

Because, whenever she left Elsa to sneak back to her bed, staring at the slats of Helen's bunk in the dark, the princess of Arendelle had never felt more _alone_.

Apart from Ada, there was no one here she could trust. And she barely knew anything about the girl, anyway. That she was willing to assist Anna seemed to come from the fact that it aligned with her own interests, rather than concern for the princess's wellbeing.

The stuff she told her about the Mirror might not even be true, for all she knew.

But Anna didn't have any other options. She was forced to trust Ada.

Why she looked more and more like Elsa every time she saw her, Anna didn't have the foggiest. _I really am losing it._

_Three days remaining._

Elsa took dinner with Queen Matilda. Tidying up in the dining room afterwards, Anna's ideas grew wilder: _what if I knocked her out with the chemicals from the store cupboard and brought her back to Arendelle?_

 _C'mon, Anna. Don't be a moron. How would you even get her unconscious body out of the_ castle _?_

 _You need to think,_ **think** _of something._

Yet, when she was with Elsa alone, all worries escaped her. It embarrassed her, later, how mindless she became. _You are on a mission, goddammit Anna._ But, when Elsa kissed her, she was helpless, trapped under a spell of her own. And whilst a part of her was still shouting _stop kissing your sister and start breaking that curse,_ she couldn't deny what she was feeling: happiness.

Afraid and alone in a foreign country, maybe, but somehow, she'd never been happier, either.

Elsa knew it, too. She took Anna's face gently in her hands and looked deeply into her eyes, searching. "I wonder why—" she brushed back a stray hair that fell from Anna's ear, "why I adore you so."

 _Two days_ , and wedding garlands were hung from every banister and rafter. She was utterly exhausted by the time she fell into bed next to Elsa.

That night, they didn't sit up and talk, or play chess as they sometimes did. She and Elsa just curled up into one another, Anna listening to her heartbeat, slowing as she drifted to sleep.

Framed by the window, an almost full moon rose, bathing the room in soft light and long shadows.

It made her think of those nights in Arendelle. How different things were back then, and yet, strangely the same.

Orion cartwheeled slowly over the horizon: his hunting dogs chasing their tails. The night creaked on, Anna drifting between sleep and wake.

The thought came to her: _Maybe I've always loved you._

The night held them in its embrace. Her; Elsa; her bed: the very epicentre of the universe.

* * *

The day of the wedding dawned.

Knocking on Elsa's door, Anna jumped when it opened and she stood face to face with one of the other maids, whose name she didn't know.

Without introductions, she said: "She's almost ready. Just the veil to go."

Grumpy that someone else had already helped Elsa get ready, all her thoughts fell out of her head when she saw Elsa rise from her dressing table in her wedding gown.

Elsa plucked up the skirt of her dress, a twinge of nerves in her voice as she asked: "What do you think?"

Elsa had made the gown herself, and it was the most gorgeous thing she'd ever see her create. Icy flowers trickled down the bodice, studded by snowflakes. Her trail tailed behind her, and on her shoulders sat a faux ermine cape, made from snow.

"You look…" Anna choked on the word, "beautiful."

God. She knew this moment would hurt, but she didn't expect the crushing feeling in her chest, as though someone had physically gripped her heart in their hand, and squeezed.

Tears burned in her eyes, and she was unable to stop the sob that forced its way form her throat.

To the perplexed maid, Elsa said, "Could you leave us, please, and tell the minister I'll be a few more minutes? Ann will help me with the rest."

As soon as the door closed behind her, Anna could no longer hold back the tears. They fell without her command, hot and humiliating. And angry.

_I'll never forgive Queen Matilda for this. For making Elsa do this. Not ever._

Gentle hands gripped her by the arms. "Ann, what's wrong?" When no response was forthcoming, she pulled her into an embrace. Her hand rubbed comforting circles on her back. "Come now. I know it's normal to cry at weddings, but still," she joked, trying to get a laugh out of her.

Anna swallowed down the hard lump in her throat. In a hoarse voice, she choked out: "I love you, that's what's wrong."

In shock, Elsa pulled back from her, hands lingering on her arms. Wide eyes, and silence. The ticking of the cuckoo clock.

What exactly had she been expecting with this declaration? Elsa, after all— this Elsa— barely knew her. She turned to flee, when she felt Elsa tug at her.

"Ann, wait."

Anna hesitated, staring at the floorboards, before Elsa commanded, "Please, look at me."

Anna forced her eyes upwards, climbing the icy buttons of her bodice up to Elsa's eyes.

"I've hardly known you two weeks…" Elsa began, and Anna's heart started to sink _stupid, stupid. What did you think she was going to say?_ "But—" Elsa continued, a tremor in her voice. A shy, nervous smile, and deprecating laugh. "I don't understand it myself, but somehow, I feel like… as though I've known you all my life. Maybe that means something. And, Lord knows what I'm doing, but—" she hesitated, blowing away a loose strand of hair. Pushing it back: a nervous gesture— "but I love you too, Ann. I've never felt like this about anyone before. I might be marrying Jareth, but—" she clasped Anna's hands between her own, squeezing. "My heart belongs to you."

She pulled Anna to her, and the two girls clung together, Anna's wet face pressed hard against Elsa's shoulder. Her heart felt like it was going to burst. She wanted to laugh and cry.

A knock came at the door. "My Lady, they're ready for you at the chapel," came a woman's voice.

Regretfully, Elsa peeled herself away from the embrace.

The urge rose in Anna's throat to beg Elsa to stay, to run away with her.

But she already knew what the answer would be. That was her sister, even without her memories: the girl could be so darn _stubborn_.

She even gave her a run for her money.

Elsa cleared her throat. She, too, was struggling with what to say. "I guess— I'll see you later," she settled with.

"Knock 'em dead," whispered Anna.

Grazing her cheek with her hand, Elsa leaned in for a kiss. It tasted of salt and tears.

"I'm coming!" Elsa called. The trail of her gown swept away, and she was gone.

* * *

Anna wandered the corridors of the castle, aimlessly, trailing a hand against the rosemaling. The palace was emptier than she'd ever seen it; everyone and their mother in the chapel. Anna, however, had no such masochistic urge to subject herself to the _I do's._

Her feet moved on their own. And they took her down the stairs through the scent of subterranean earth to the Mirror. She sat there, in front of Elsa.

Anna never knew it was possible to feel so happy, and so sad.

How long she sat there, in the dark, watching the runes flutter across the dark surface of the glass, she didn't know.

She never, in a million years, imagined love would feel like this. _And if they told me, I never would have believed them._

The solstice was tomorrow, and she still didn't have a plan. "You don't know what's going to happen, do you, Elsa?" she asked the figure in the Mirror.

In response, Elsa raised a finger to her lips. S-e-c-r-e-t.

"Figures," Anna said, with a roll of her eyes.

She decided aloud: "Whatever happens, I'll protect Elsa. I won't let anything happen to her."

Mirror-Elsa raised an eyebrow.

"Look, I know it's not the best plan, but I don't see you coming up with anything better," Anna shot at her.

Elsa shrugged.

 _Well, I can't blame you._ She put her head in her hands and sighed.

She was startled out of her stupor by a loud metal _clang_. She realised in a panic: it was the door upstairs! There were footsteps and voices on the stairwell.

Had the ceremony already finished so soon?

Mirror-Elsa gestured with her hands for Anna to vamoose, but there was nowhere to run. The footfalls were coming closer, and she was trapped.


	27. into the fire

As the voices on the stairs grew closer, the Elsa in the Mirror jabbed pointedly at the solid desk shoved up against the wall, covered in ancient looking scrolls, swamped with piles of books.

Anna didn't need to be told twice. She crawled in behind the desk, making space for herself in the dusty space between the antique thing and the wall.

If anyone leaned over the desk, she'd be screwed. But there was nothing else she could do but squeeze in as tightly as possible and pray she wouldn't be spotted in the dim light.

There was space under the desk where you could put your feet, mostly filled with books. However, there was still a narrow crack where if Anna craned in close, the dust tickling her nose, she could see through to the Mirror.

She wasn't sure who she was expecting, but she was startled so hard she almost busted her head against the roof of the desk when Queen Matilda herself walked into her line of vision.

"The preparations for tomorrow have all been made?" the little old woman asked, hanging onto Ilia's elbow as they approached the black surface of the Mirror.

"Done, your Grace," said Ilia. She was wearing the fine brocade gown she must have worn to the wedding with an elaborate up-do, not a hair out of place. "I've asked Evelyn to slip the sleeping powder into Elsa's tea tonight."

_Wait, what?_

Straining better to hear, Anna pushed her nose further between the pile of books.

She really hadn't thought this through, because immediately the dust went up her nose, and she could feel the tell-tale pressure. Anna muffled the sneeze into her sleeve as best as possible, the tiny noise ringing in her head like alarm bells, heart hammering in her chest.

She could have sighed in relief when neither the Queen or Ilia paused in their conversation, neither seeming to have noticed.

_I'm being way too darn jumpy._

"—You are aware of the strength of dosage you'll need to knock out someone like Elsa, are you not?" the Queen asked.

"I am. Tested it out on myself a few days ago. Slept sweeter than a baby, your Grace."

Covering her mouth and nose, Anna peered back out just in time to see Queen Matilda reach out and touch the Mirror. Under her touch, it glowed bright.

With a kind of nervous reluctance, Ilia said, "And what of Ada, my Queen?"

Wrapped up in the now eerie glow of the Mirror, the Queen said, absently, "I'll deal with it."

Again, Ilia hesitated. "My Queen, I'm certain we can trust her. She would give her life for you. And I know if she knew the truth, she would be glad to lose—"

"It's not a matter of trust," Queen Matilda interrupted her curtly. Strange it seemed, how now the Queen seemed to stand straighter, her voice stronger. "The situation is complicated enough. I've no wish to further entangle things. I will leave nothing to chance. She's vital in the completion of the Mirror, and I refuse to miss this window. I will not wait until the summer solstice." A shadow hung to the underbelly of her words. Anna wondered if what she really meant was: she would not last till then.

"I understand," Ilia acquiesced at last.

"What of you, Ilia? Are you still willing to make this sacrifice?"

"I long for eternity too, your Grace. I will sacrifice whatever necessary."

Sacrifice? Eternity? What on earth were they planning? Anna received a horrible, unbidden image of Elsa, drugged before the Mirror as the witch queen slit open her throat with a knife.

 _N-no._ The situation was worse than she could ever have imagined. Anna had to get Elsa out of here _now_.

"Good," said the Queen. "And the binding spell?"

"The translators finished with it a fortnight ago." To Anna's panic, Ilia was heading straight in her direction. Heart pounding, feeling like her own breathing was too loud, she stifled her mouth under her hands.

A shadow fell over her as the top of Ilia's forehead and perfectly groomed hair loomed over the desk. If Ilia had looked, she would have seen her. Thankfully, the woman was focused completely on finding the correct tome. She pulled a heavy book free. The shadow disappeared. "Here, your Grace," she said, Anna breathing again.

For a few moments in silence Queen Matilda studied the book, the only sound the shuffling of pages. At last she said: "Yes, this will work. The words have power." She handed the tome back to Ilia. "When I touched the Mirror the first time those seventeen years ago, and all those pieces went flying: scattered, lost— well, I feared we would never find them all. And now here we are, on the precipice of achieving eternity. I can only thank you Ilia, for all the service you've shown me over these years. You've been my most loyal servant."

"It's been my honour, your Grace," Ilia murmured.

"Come, then. This time tomorrow, the Mirror will be complete and we will finally regain all of the things we've lost."

 _Thank God._ They were leaving.

Ilia cleared her throat. "Actually, your Grace, I thought I'd check the texts one last time."

_Oh, shoot._

With the Queen gone, Anna heard footsteps approaching. And then Ilia's shadow fell over Anna. She craned her head up, to see the magician looking down at her.

"I knew I heard something back here," she said, staring Anna down. "Who are you, and how did you get down here?" When Anna hesitated, agog for words, the woman demanded, "Get up."

Her hiding place was so horrible and cramped, with the prickly feeling of something crawling up her leg, that it was almost a relief to oblige her in this.

Apart from the the fact her head was replaying over and over a single dead note of panic.

Ilia looked her over. "I recognise you. You're one of the staff. The girl Lady Elsa's taken a liking to. How did you get down here?"

Maybe, just maybe, there was still a way to salvage the situation…

"I-I'm sorry. The door was unlocked, and I was curious—"

"You're lying," said Ilia. "There's an enchantment on that door. No ordinary person should be able to see it."

Welp.

Again, Ilia asked, "Who _are_ you?"

It was a stand off, Ilia scanning her over with her eyes; Anna, preparing to bolt.

It happened at the same moment. Ilia eyes widened in understanding as she gasped: "Princess Anna of Arendelle."

Anna ran.

Buzzing with adrenaline, Anna vaulted over the desk, scattering a pile of books onto the floor like a deck of cards as she legged it to the stairs, thinking one thing only: _Elsa. I've got to get to Elsa._ Memories or not, she had to get her sister out of here.

But as her foot made contact with the first step, the stairs burst into flame. Anna leapt back with a shout.

"How did you get into the city?" Ilia demanded. Except that Anna wasn't interested in answering any of her questions.

The injustice of what they'd been put through, of the manipulation they'd forced Elsa to endure fed the flames building inside Anna. She wheeled round to face Ilia, fists clenched, the anger she felt burning hotter than her anxiety.

"You're _not_ going to get away with this," she said, voice low and tight with fury. "I'm getting Elsa and taking her back to Arendelle, away from this place."

Ilia smirked. "And how do you intend to do that?"

"I know your secret," said Anna, and for a second that smirk faltered. She thought of the storm. The huge crashing black waves. The fear a tight stopper in her throat. When she'd refused to give up, to back down on love, the storm had dissipated into sea foam.

Anna's voice rang with jubilation. "You have no power over me," she said.

She turned to face the flames.

The heat was immense, an inferno against her skin, the licking flames towering above her.

Her heart banging against her ribcage, Anna took a deep breath and closed her eyes, stepping into the blaze.

Instead of burning her up, the fire gently tickled against her skin.

When she opened her eyes, the flames were gone. No; they'd never been there.

"Wait!" shouted Ilia, but she sounded desperate, now.

Anna ran.

* * *

A gentle breeze stirred in the garden, dressed up like a Midsummer's party. Long tables were laid on the lawn, garlanded with wreaths of crocuses. Bunting was strung overhead and hung with lanterns. Glasses chinked. Laughter trickled. The band played away.

The new bride stood surrounded by a group of nobles, all falling over themselves to offer their congratulations, her husband's hand resting upon her shoulder.

The ceremony was beautiful, but looking over the shoulder of the Countess, Elsa's eyes began to glaze. As the talk turned to the latest court fashions, Elsa's smile became fixed in place.

More and more, recently, this melancholy stole over her. A sadness she couldn't pinpoint. A feeling like some kind of loss.

The logical part of Elsa told her the notion was absurd. Today was her wedding day; the happiest day of her life.

And yet, despite that logic, it wasn't.

Analysing her emotions, it occurred to her: _I never feel like this when I'm with Ann._

Remembering how upset the girl had been earlier made something twist inside her. _I have to do something for her. Get her a present. Show her how sincere I am about this._

The pop of the champagne bottle. Laughter. Jareth's hand still rested, proprietorial, on her shoulder.

The sadness pervaded the sunny springtime garden like clouds, smearing out the margarine sun.

 _That dream…_ somehow, she kept coming back to that dream she'd had last night. _What on Earth does it mean?_

Elsa dreamed about a lonely queen living in another land, whose sadness hung over her as heavy as a cloak of snow.

And the queen… she'd worn _her_ face.

Involuntarily, Elsa's hands tightened around her wine glass, knuckles whitening.

She felt the hand on her shoulder give a gentle squeeze. "Elsa?"

"Hm?"

"Our friend the Countess asked what you thought of the new spring fashions?" Jareth nudged her.

Brow tangled into a frown. The thought lanced through her brain as though thought by someone else: _But it's always spring here._

_What?_

Pressing a hand to her head, she pushed away the nonsense notion. _Always spring? That doesn't make any sense. How could it always be spring?_

"Elsa… are you feeling alright?" As though she'd emerged from the bath, water unplugging from her ears, the sounds of the party surged back to life.

She felt Jareth's hand resting heavily on her shoulder, and for a lightning second, wondered what it was doing there.

"I'm fine."

She wasn't fine.

"I— I'm going to the bathroom," she stammered, brushing Jareth's hand from her shoulder along with his concern. She swept through the crowd, icy cape sweeping along the grass behind her, eyes locked to the ground.

When someone grabbed her arm, she barely noticed. Elsa forced her eyes up, thoughts trapped in a swirling blizzard, flinching when they jerked against startlingly green irises.

And the storm inside her ceased.

"Ann," she managed out, in polite surprise. "What are you doing here?"

She frowned when she noticed the wild look in Ann's eyes. Her flushed cheeks. She was breathing hard, as though she'd been running.

She squeezed Elsa's arm urgently. "Elsa, you need to come with me. Quickly."

They were attracting curious stares. Hadn't she already spoken to Anna about this? Wanting to get out the public eye, with the edge of annoyance in her voice, she said, "Come on, then."

She led Anna into the safety of the hedge maze, out of view. About to demand what the problem was, Elsa noticed just how undone Anna looked. There was a tear in her dress and her hair was unwinding from the tight bun she kept it in. Desperation clung to her. Elsa didn't have a chance to ask what was wrong. Hands clasped both of her arms, physically willing Ann's sense of urgency.

"Listen to me, Elsa. You're in danger. We have to get you out of here. You have to leave with me _now_."

Whatever she'd been expecting, it wasn't this.

"In danger?" Elsa asked, taken aback. "From who? We have to find the captain of the guards so you can explain, Ann-"

"No—" Ann interrupted. "No guards. I know this is going to sound crazy, but _please_ try to understand Elsa—"

Speaking very fast, Ann started to tell a tale Elsa could make head nor tail of. Something about a sacrifice, a magic mirror and an evil scheme, like something out of a fairy tale. "—And we have to get back to Arendelle. We need to go home," she finished breathlessly, eyes bright and wild.

 _Back_ to Arendelle? "I don't understand what you're saying," Elsa said, slowly and with measure, because she wasn't sure in her state Ann would understand her. "I don't know what's come over you, but the Spring Palace is my home."

Elsa didn't understand. Why was it that Anna looked like she was about to cry?

"I know it sounds crazy. I'd think it was crazy, but—" Anna cut off her rambling, switching to another technique. "You said you loved me earlier. Please. Just this one time, you need to trust me."

"I…"

The sound of chinking armour, and running feet. Suddenly everything started happening very quickly. The guards rounded the corner, four of them. _Because of what Ann said, about the danger—_ was Elsa's first thought, until one of the men roughly grabbed Ann, wrenching her arms behind her back.

"You didn't really think you'd get away with this, did you?" his colleague said.

For several seconds, Elsa just stared.

The man yanked Ann's arm harder than he needed to, and she winced. It spurred Elsa out of her confusion. She stepped forward. "What—" she asked, "do you think you're doing?"

The captain of the palace guards, differentiated by the flourishes on his uniform and the sour twist to his mouth, said, "No need to worry, your Highness. I assure you, she won't be bothering you again."

Despite the confusion, cold anger flooded Elsa. She demanded: "You will tell me what's going on this _instant_ , Captain."

The Captain didn't even blink. "This girl is an impostor, your Highness. She's a thief, well-known to us. We believe she ingratiated herself with you in order to attain the Austenborg heirlooms."

"Elsa, don't listen to them." Ann strained from her captor's clutches. "It's not true!"

" _You need to trust me."_

Ann, in tears, telling her she loved her. The kisses in the dark. Feeling like she finally belonged. Was that all a lie?"

"I don't believe it," said Elsa. "There has to be some kind of misunderstanding."

"It's no misunderstanding." The voice was breathless, Ilia catching up behind it, flushed and breathing hard. For the first time, with several hairs out of place.

What did she have to do with this? The question was swallowed by the growing anxiety that crushed Elsa's chest.

Ann threw daggers at the woman as she approached her. "I'm afraid—" she said, dipping her fingers into Ann's apron, "—it's all true." Like a magician pulling pennies from behind a girl's ear, Ilia withdrew from Ann's apron a long string of pearls that belonged to Elsa's mother.

Seeing those pearls swinging in Ilia's hand, it wouldn't been more painful if Ann drove a knife and cut right through her heart.

She felt like an utter fool. Letting this girl get close to her like no one ever had. Letting her climb right into heart. Worse: giving her the key. She should have known what her instincts always told her: there was no such thing as intimacy in this world.

Only snow. Only ice.

Elsa didn't shout or scream at Ann. Her hands closed over her elbows to hold herself together, and she turned away.

"Elsa, they're lying to you," Ann begged her. "It's one of Ilia's illusions. Just a trick."

"And why would Ilia do something like that?" Elsa said, voice cold.

"There's no point listening to anything she says, Highness," said the Captain. "She's a conwoman. A born liar."

"Elsa, _please_."

Elsa gripped herself tighter, fingers digging into the soft flesh under her elbows. For once, she lost control of her powers, ice creeping and crackling into the material of her sleeves.

Dimly, she heard the Captain say, "Take her away and lock her up."

"You need to recognise me. Please, Elsa, I'm your sister!"

Her sister. Why did that sound familiar? With a click of the cogs in her mind, everything snapped into place. She forced her gaze back to the girl, taking in her features.

"I know you," she said, Ann's eyes widening. "You're that girl who broke into my room a few weeks ago. You were dressed like a guard. And you were spouting all this nonsense then, too. That you were my sister," Elsa scoffed. "Ridiculous. I don't have a sister."

She was startled to see that Ann— or whoever she was— was crying. Wasn't this taking the act too far?

Part of Elsa's dream returned to her, slicing through her mind like a ribbon of ice:

_Tears hanging to her lashes like diamonds. Ann's wet cheeks._

" _I guess… I guess I don't understand anything about what it means to be Queen." Breathy, self-deprecating laughter. "I don't really do anything after all. I'm just the screw up."_

Where had _that_ come from? Elsa shook her head, to clear the image of a dim landing, full of secrets and whispered, unheard words from her mind.

"Take her to the guardhouse and question her," she heard the Captain say.

"No!" Ann struggled as the guard attempted to lead her away, and through a lot of wriggling successfully managed to pull one of her arms free. "I'm not giving up on you, Elsa," she said.

_Ice, spilling from her to crackle across Ann's skin. A helpless sob wrenching itself from Elsa's throat. "Please—" she begged._

_But Ann continued to embrace her, despite the frost threading its way through her gown and up into her hair. "I_ won't _let you go," she said._

Ann didn't get far. One of the other men grabbed her loose hand, and with a mouth so sour he looked like he was sucking on a lemon, the Captain backhanded Ann across the face. _Smack_! He hit her so hard it split her lip and incensed, she spat a glob of blood in his face.

"Impudent girl." _Smack!_ He backhanded her other cheek.

The world faded to white.

_The snowstorm hung, frozen. She cupped cold, lifeless cheeks. "No. No. Please, Anna, no."_

Not Ann. The sound was different, and there was another syllable.

Ar-na.

 _Anna_.

A pain like a migraine split down Elsa's skull. She didn't realise she'd crumpled to the ground until her knees hit hard earth.

" _I want you to meet your little sister, Elsa. Her name's Anna."_

_So soft. A baby swaddled with blankets, pushed gently into her arms. She was so tiny and fragile looking she was afraid she' d drop her, but her father kept his arms cupped beneath hers._

" _Can she play with me now?" she asked._

_Her father's laughter. "When she's a little older, Elsa."_

Elsa.

Elsa.

**Who is Elsa?**

Shards of memories full of sharp corners. Elsa's head _hurts_. She sees them, all at once: elocution lessons in her bedroom, with her stuffy old tutor prodding at her posture with her ruler. Geometry and arithmetic. A trip to the seaside one summer. Striped bathing suits, and burying Anna up to her neck in sand. Even months later, finding sand in her shoes. The private lessons with her father in his study, untangling the complicated tapestry of world politics. Above his desk is a painting of her papa in his crown, holding his regalia.

Her papa: the King of Arendelle.

And the latch clicks open. Wind and rain: everything rushes in.

_Rise, Queen Elsa of Arendelle._

It's a torrent now: battering down with hail and snow. The gloves, and the end of those seaside trips. Her parents' deaths. Anna's knocks on her door, growing ever quieter. The fear. Oh God, the fear.

Collapsed on the ground, Queen Elsa stared at the frost leaking from her fingertips into the blades of grass, her head aching as though it had been cracked open. _Where in the world am I?_

She pushed herself up onto her feet, gazing in confusion at the unfamiliar hedge maze. This wasn't Arendelle.

"Elsa!"

She snapped round, to see Anna restrained by several men in uniform. Her hair wild. Her lip split.

The storm pulsed inside her.

Magic flowed through her and Elsa raised her hand, ice crackling in her voice, "Let go of my sister," she demanded.

Anna hiccoughed, tears running down her cheeks in relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't help but throw in a quote from one of my favourite childhood films in homage in this chapter. Points if you found it.
> 
> Can't remember if I've plugged my tumblr or not, but I post updates on my fics at the-honey-bear. Also happy to answer any questions so long as they're not spoilerific. ;) Link's at the bottom of my profile.
> 
> Thanks go to Nicole for beta-reading!


	28. the centre of the storm

"I said, _release her_."

Elsa's voice shook with the tremor of the storm. When the guard made no move to unhand her sister, Elsa unleashed her ice, fingertips tingling as icicles pinned the guard back against the hedge. Before the Captain could take a single step, Elsa whipped round, freezing him and the rest of his men to the spot.

Her sister ran forward, burying herself in Elsa's embrace.

"Oh, Elsa. Thank God," she breathed.

Elsa peeled her sister away to survey her, brushing the blood from her lip. "Did they hurt you?"

Anna shook her head. "I'm fine."

Elsa turned her attention towards Ilia, who was watching her warily. At her side was Khublan, and the boy, Angus. All creatures of the Queen.

Things were starting to become clear to Elsa, now.

Her eyes fixed on the tall Egyptian man. "You brainwashed me," she accused Khublan.

The man shrugged. He didn't look terribly guilty. "If you'd really desired so, your Majesty, you could have slipped out of my spell long ago. You just didn't want to."

"You're saying I wanted to be brainwashed?" Elsa scoffed. "That's ridiculous."

"Is it? You were trapped in a situation you could see no exit to. You couldn't stomach you own incestuous desires." His eyes roamed knowingly over towards Anna, who shifted beside her uncomfortably. "Maybe a secret tryst with one of the staff was easier to stomach than your attraction to your own sister."

 _Oh God._ Those strange splinters of memory were beginning to make sense. It was coming back to her: how she'd coerced Anna into kissing her in the ballroom. All those nights they'd spent together.

Elsa clamped a hand to her mouth. She felt like she was going to be sick.

"It's true that I altered your memories on the Queen's orders, but if we're assigning blame, you are complicit in this as I am, your Majesty. You couldn't bear your own guilty feelings, so you ran away."

Frost leaked into the lawn, the grass crackling as it crystallised around her feet.

The sneer crept into Khublan's voice: "Even after all this time, you still can't control your powers, can you?"

The anger in Elsa was gone, leeched out of her by the tempest the roiled inside her chest. Because, as much as she hated to admit it, Khublan was right.

"Shut up!" Elsa's attention snapped round. Beside her, Anna was red faced, her cheeks pink where she'd been back-handed, hands balled into fists. "Don't try and blame Elsa for something _you_ did. We've had enough of your mind games. I know what you really want Elsa for— you want her to help complete the creepy mirror down in the basement."

"Yes. To complete the eternal world," said Ilia, voice conveying a powerful urgency. "Tell me, your Majesty: doesn't it sound wonderful? A world without pain, without suffering, without loss. No heartbreak, or… pain of unrequited love?"

Elsa's voice was tight: "What you're describing sounds like only one thing I know of: death. You're joking if you seriously think I'd help you after the things you've done." Anna had helped calm the storm swirling inside of her and put things back into perspective. She could think about everything else later. Right now, there was only one priority. "My sister and I will return to Arendelle, and _you will not stop us_."

"Apologies, your Majesty, but we've all worked too hard to let you go home just yet," said Ilia.

There was ice in the bite of Elsa's words: "Try to stop us."

"Angus," said Ilia.

The gangly redheaded boy rolled his eyes and with a Scottish inflection said, "Finally."

The ground began to shake. Anna fell against her, steadying herself.

"What's happening?" she asked.

"We're getting out of here," Elsa replied. Then her hand was hooked round her sister's wrist and they were running away from the Queen's magicians, deeper into the folly.

This, Elsa quickly realised, was their first mistake.

"We must have seen this statue five times now," Anna lamented, as they, once again, faced a dead end and the cold, stony eyes belonging to a bust of Alexander the Great.

"I was afraid of this," Elsa said, the stony eyes seeming to stare back, his quirk of a smile mocking her. "This must be part of that boy's powers. He's done something to this maze. We should have found the exit ages ago." And, she was beginning to suspect, even if they looked for hours, she doubted they would ever find the way out. But, she had an idea. "Stand behind me, Anna."

Anna moved out of the way, and the tingle of her magic was at her fingertips. Panes of knife-sharp ice cut through the hedge, shearing aside a hole large enough to climb through.

"Alright, Elsa!" Anna exclaimed. "If they're going to fight dirty, so can we."

But as Anna made for the hole in the hedge, it came to life, the branches knotting together to close the wound Elsa made. A second later, it was like she'd never touched it at all.

Jaw tight, Elsa tried again, shearing away huge chunks of hedge. Which as soon as she cut them away, grew back.

"That's not fair!" said Anna.

Elsa stared at the branches tangling together. "Somehow, I got a bad feeling it wouldn't be that easy."

For a second, she let her eyes slip closed. What a fool she'd been, to come here. Yet again, through her own cowardice, she'd put her sister in danger.

"Elsa?" Her eyes opened, and she saw Anna looking at her in concern.

Her teeth ground together. "I want to try something else," she said, extending her hand out towards her.

"Um." Anna looked at her open hand in confusion and hesitation.

Would they ever be able to repair the mess they'd made of their relationship?

"If we can't go through, I'm going to try and take us up and over," Elsa explained.

"Oh. R-right. Good idea." Flashing a tight, apologetic smile that didn't reach her eyes, Anna moved in closer, clasping hold of her long faux ermine cloak.

"You'll… have you hold on tighter than that. I don't want you to fall," Elsa said, swallowing down the hardened lump in her throat.

"Right. Sure. Sorry," said Anna. Elsa felt her sister's fingers wrap round her waist, hesitant and shy. A hot rush of self-loathing ran through her for that— how even in this situation, when they were in mortal peril— Anna's touch set her heart racing.

—As a memory slipped back, and she recalled that same touch, shy at first, and then, not so shy, those nights in Elsa Austenborg's bedroom. The feeling of her fingers tracing stardust tingles through her hair, and—

Elsa swallowed, hard, trying to choke the memory down. There would be time for that, later, once Anna was safe.

"Ready?" she asked. Anna nodded.

A pillar of ice corkscrewed out of the ground, lifting them up and over the hedge maze.

—Before the walls of the maze rushed up to meet them. The higher they went, the taller they grew.

"Faster, Elsa!" said Anna, fingers digging into the bodice of her gown.

The buzz of her magic, and higher they went, corkscrewing up, up, up. But as fast as Elsa's magic travelled, the maze kept pace with them.

"It's no good," Elsa acquiesced, letting the tingle of magic fade from her fingers.

"Ur. Whoah." Her sister stared down, fingers tightening around her. "We're really, really high."

They had to be five hundred feet up off the ground.

"Did I ever tell you that your powers are, uh, really really impressive, Elsa?" Anna said, voice wavering an octave higher than usual.

"Thanks," said Elsa, a wry twist to her voice.

"Uh. Maybe you could take us down now?"

The pillar of ice corkscrewed back into the ground. Anna's grip slackened around her waist.

"I, uh, ever tell you I once jumped off a cliff when I came to get you on the North Mountain?"

"You know I apologised for that, Anna," Elsa said, voice tight and embarrassed.

They reached the ground, and Elsa's ice dissipated. Anna waved her hands. "No, that's not what I mean. I was thinking, that maybe you could create another creature like Marshmellow to help us get out of here?"

Elsa was quiet.

"What Khublan said about you not being able to completely control your powers…" Anna said softly, "he was telling the truth, wasn't he? That's why you hardly ever use them at home, when you can you do such amazing things."

Elsa gripped hold of her sleeve. Even now, she could feel the humming under the surface of her skin, her magic trying to break free of its holds. It wasn't like those years before the Great Thaw. She _could_ control it, but, when her emotions got the better of her… like, for example, now…

"Let's just try and find the exit. There's nothing else we can do," she said. She started walking, eyes set ahead of her. They walked, and they kept on walking. Corner after corner. Dead end after dead end. No exit in sight. Her shoes rubbing up blisters that chafed with every step.

"But, Elsa, you never had any trouble controlling you powers when you were Elsa Austenborg."

Elsa tore her eyes away from the path in front of her and twisted round. Her sister had stopped, her split lip tight and hands balled.

"I knew it," Anna breathed. "It really is because of me. Because I got hurt when were kids."

"Because I hurt you, you mean," Elsa amended.

"And you're still blaming yourself for it! For something I can't even remember. That's why you came here, isn't it? Because of—" Anna's breath caught as she hesitated, before she barrelled on: "—because of that night on the balcony, when I—" another flutter of hesitation, and then her voice was firmer: "when I kissed you. You were scared of feeling what you felt, and even more, that maybe I felt the same way. You were scared you'd hurt me, so you ran away. Just like before."

Elsa blood was pounding in her eardrums. She pulled herself away. "We need to keep looking for the way out, Anna—" She walked. One foot in front of the other. Eyes forward. She didn't look back. She couldn't.

But Anna refused to let up. "Don't you get it, Elsa? This will never be resolved until we _talk_ about it. We'll just keep going round and round, going nowhere."

Dead end after dead end. The exit no where in sight.

"I know you're just trying to protect me, but you need to learn to trust me, too, Elsa. _I'm not afraid._ "

No, of course she wasn't, for wasn't that why Elsa loved her? Her wonderful, beautiful, fearless sister.

"Elsa, I love you."

The maze opened out before Elsa. A stone gazebo, with a table and two chairs. A tea tray and teapot with two cups.

The very centre of the maze.

Elsa turned back to face her sister, Anna's feet planted solidly on the ground with her eyes wet.

"You don't mean that. Not in that way. You're confused, Anna," Elsa said.

"I've never been more certain of anything in my life."

Elsa struggled for words, for a way to convince Anna that this wasn't right. "We can't do this. Imagine— imagine how the people in Arendelle would react if they found out."

"I don't care," said Anna, stepping towards her, and a shiver ran through her, knowing that her sister was being completely sincere.

She swallowed. "What— what would our parents think?"

Anna paused, hesitating. "It's not like I planned for any of this to happen either, you know. Don't you think I'd go back to thinking of you just as a sister if I could? You're right. Of course they wouldn't be happy… but, I don't think they'd like to see us like this, either. Running away from one another. Being unhappy and dishonest with one another. I think they…" her voice grew stronger and she took another step forward, "no, I know that they would want us to be happy."

Still, Elsa held back. "There's no way of knowing what they would have wanted."

"No," Anna echoed sadly. "There's not. I used to think that our parents were perfect… now I know that most of what's happened could have been avoided if they hadn't made the mistakes they made. They loved us… but they're gone. And we have to make our decisions by ourselves, whether they're mistakes or not."

Elsa ached to be swayed by Anna's entreaties. To love her, as she wanted to be loved, as she'd always ached to love her. But part of her reared back, the part of her that remembered the blast hitting her sister on the head, that had frozen her heart, that had given her frostbite, all because she dared to get close to her. It screamed in Elsa's ears: _stay away from her! You're dangerous! You'll hurt her!_

And yet… Elsa Austenborg had never hurt Ann. She'd never lost control. There had never even been any control for her to lose. Her powers were a part of her, as intrinsic as breathing.

Anna sheared away the gulf between them, taking those last few steps towards her. Her hands came up to cup her cheeks. Elsa fought the urge to flinch away.

"I'll hurt you…" she whispered, frightened.

"You won't," said Anna. Reflected in her eyes was such fierce love and trust that Elsa felt something in her heart snap. Like frost, cracking away. "Say it with me: you won't hurt me."

"Anna…"

"Just _do it._ "

"I— I won't hurt you," Elsa said. The magic under her skin crackled, and then begun to fade away. She said it again: "I won't hurt you." Anna's eyes widened, and Elsa's raised her hands to touch her sister's face. Her words singing out in jubilation: "I won't hurt you!" She traced the curves of Anna's face, the dips of her dimples, her beaming mouth. Her magic obeyed her, glowing warm inside her body, reaching deep into her stomach. She was smiling, so hard that that the corners of her mouth ached. Anna was laughing, and she was laughing, for no other reason than the joy it was to laugh.

Without knowing who started it, she was kissing Anna. Or Anna was kissing her. Or— what did it matter? That bright, warm spot of sunlight she carried in her stomach flared like a sunspot, illuminating every part of her, shining out of her. She was glowing. In Anna's arms, she glowed.

"A-Anna? Queen Elsa?"

The word was a puncture. Eyes snagging on a group of people by an opening into the maze, the bright honey joy evaporated out of Elsa like butter in a pan. She jerked back clumsily, the whites of Anna's eyes brightening in confusion. Until she followed Elsa's open-mouthed stare.

The word slipped form Anna's mouth, a little lost child: "Kristoff?"

Kristoff stood by an opening in the hedge-maze, staring at them with both parts confusion and shock. By his side was Admiral Westergard and four of their men, tunics embossed with the Arendelle crocus.

How was it that though her limbs felt numb and dead, Elsa's skin tingled, her chest blazing hot with prickling panic? That hot, panicky feeling rose up through her throat and snatched away her breath. She felt like she could barely breathe.

She heard Anna speaking shakily, but the words were slippery, slipping away from Elsa like soap bubbles. She couldn't concentrate.

"Ah. Um. Kristoff," she heard Anna say dimly, registering instead her sister's hands seeking the comforting familiarity of her braids, and instead falling deject to pull at her apron. "What— what are you all doing here?"

Kristoff spoke blandly, without tone: "Finding the two of you. The Admiral managed to get a message back to Arendelle and request back-up. The Palace has been captured. We thought you must have been, too. But, apparently not."

"Um," said Anna.

Elsa closed her eyes, but it didn't block out the pulsing red panic. This couldn't be happening.

"Kristoff," she heard her sister implore. "Admiral Westergard. It's not what it looks like. I— can explain." Anna burst into a halting, confusing account about how Elsa's memories were altered— "And I had to be a maid, and there was this plot with an evil magic mirror, and Ilia said there was going to be a sacrifice, and—" Anna's attempt at speech sizzled away into nothing. A dry wasteland of a silence stretched between them. Elsa had never before seen the Admiral at a loss for words. "Um. It's hard to explain," said Anna.

There was no way to explain what the other party had just seen, and Anna knew it. The Admiral had seen them. The men from Arendelle—strangers!— had seen them.

One clear thought cut through the mulch of Elsa's muddled thoughts— that maybe this was her punishment.

"No, I get it," said Kristoff.

"You do?" said Anna, voice arcing up in relief.

" _This_ is why we broke up, isn't it?" he said, extending his hands to gesture vaguely between them. _This_. "To be honest, I always wondered if there was someone you had feelings for." With a wry, angry twist to his mouth, he said, "Never imagined it'd be your sister though. You got me there. This is just… really messed up, Anna."

Elsa saw how Anna's whitened knuckles, tightened over her apron strings, were shaking. More than anything she wanted to reach out and comfort her, but she couldn't— not without incriminating them further.

The Admiral spoke now, his moustache wilted, looking both parts embarrassed and appalled. "Your Majesty, your Highness, this is— truly shocking. I hardly know what to say. All of Arendelle knows how close the two of you are. But this incest— it's an abomination. It's unacceptable. If the people were to learn of this—" Elsa didn't need to listen to what the people would do if they knew. She'd already imagined it dozens, hundreds of times. Had seen, clearly, the protests, the revolts. Her forced abdication, and then— _if she were lucky_ — banishment, to some Danish nunnery.

But, because she'd never for a second considered her sister might return her feelings, she'd never imagined that this might happen to _Anna_.

_Oh God. No, I can't let that happen to Anna._

The control she held over her powers slipped from her hands like a block of butter, and the grass began to frost over, ice crackling up the pillars of the gazebo.

Anna stepped back as her shoes started to ice over, eyes flicking up to her with concern. "Elsa…"

"This is my fault. Don't blame Anna for this, Kristoff," Elsa said, voice cracked and chipped, as ice continued to crackle up the gazebo, frost creeping into the hedge. "I coerced her. She never wanted this." Her eyes found the Admiral's. "I'm a witch after all, aren't I?" Her arms she spread wide, to the unstoppable spread of ice. Everything was so broken, so screwed up, that she even managed to smile.

Her only thought: protect Anna.

"Well, this is what witches do. I wanted Anna, so I took her. So what?" Elsa swallowed down the waver in her voice. "What are _you_ going to do about it?"

_It doesn't matter what happens to me. So long as Anna is safe._

A flash of red in her periphery as Anna's head whipped round. "What? That isn't true. Elsa, you can't—"

_You sacrificed yourself for me. It's time I repaid the favour._

"You want her?" Elsa managed to call airily, when all she felt was fire, ripping her arteries apart. The Admiral looked nervous; Kristoff, confused; the men had hands on their weapons.

Anger flashed across her sister's face. "Elsa, stop it!"

She shoved her sister towards them, spitting, "Take her. I'm bored with her, anyway."

_You'll be a great queen, Anna._

Anna stumbled and tripped, and immediately Kristoff was by her side. Hair whipped round as she shouted, "Don't do this to us again, Elsa!"

Elsa summoned a huge boulder of ice to block the way, and she turned away.

She ran. She stumbled. She picked herself up and kept running, blisters burning on the soles of her feet, until she felt nothing. Turn after turn. Dead end after dead end. She didn't know where she was or where she was going.

Elsa was lost in the maze.

* * *

When Kristoff lent down to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, Anna didn't feel it. The words that left his mouth left it in an underwater babble and might have been _are you alright_ or _do you want a turkish delight_. The ends of her digits were tingling. A huge ice boulder blocked the path to Elsa. She was gone.

She thought she'd finally got through to her sister, and she'd run off and left her, _again_.

Pulling herself from her stupor, she managed out, "We have to go after her."

"You're kidding, right?" said Kristoff. "I thought for sure she was going to turn us into ice cubes."

"Elsa would never hurt anyone. You know that, Kristoff!" Anna said, staring hard at him.

"I thought that way too, a few minutes ago."

But that wasn't right. Kristoff knew Elsa. They could be a little stiff and awkward with one another, but: _There's no way Kristoff would think my sister capable of hurting a fly._

A sense of dread had settled at the pit of her stomach. "So what do you propose, Admiral? That we just leave Elsa and return to Arendelle?"

"Immediately, your Highness. The council will need to discuss it, but I'm afraid you may need to do your duty as Crown Princess far earlier than we'd ever planned. Clearly, Queen Elsa is not fit for the throne. The council has tried to keep the best part of it from you, but there have always been dissenters about the Queen's… abilities."

 _But the people love Elsa._ She could see them now, at the tournament— the uproarious applause they'd given her. They adored her.

That fear in her gut was _right_. God, she'd been so stupid!

She shoved Kristoff's concerned hand away. "You do a poor impression of Kristoff, Ilia."

In the space of a blink, Kristoff and the Admiral and his men were gone. In their place was Ilia, Angus and men from the Spring Palace. And before she could even get up, they'd accosted her, hands wrenched behind her back.

"I knew something didn't feel right. What, I kiss Elsa and suddenly we've got a whole audience?" Anna spat. "You were playing to Elsa's fears, weren't you? You knew you could separate us and that Elsa would try to protect me."

"She's very predictable," said Ilia. "It's quite charming, actually."

Anna's eyes snapped up as Khublan turned the corner, carrying her limp older sister in his arms.

"It's fascinating," he said, turning up a wry smile at Anna. "She's the strongest of all of us. The Snow Queen, who once froze an entire kingdom. She could control the whole world, if she so chose. Yet, because she loves you, she's just a helpless girl."

"Not everyone is like you," Anna shot at him.

The wry smile deepened. "I assure you, I nor Ilia want world conquest. Love and fear are stronger bonds than those made of metal."

Anna had thought Elsa unconscious, but now she saw her twitch in Khublan's arms, rolling her head to the side. Her eyes stared into nothing, rimmed with white.

"W-what have you done to her?" Anna asked, aghast.

"Khublan's memory charm won't be as effective now she's broken through it the once, so I put her somewhere to keep her quiet. At least until we put the mirror back together tomorrow," Ilia said.

It made Anna feel sick, how Elsa's eyes rolled without seeing, lips moving without speaking. Anger came from deep at the base of her belly: "You're a monster."

"A monster? Please," said Ilia.

"You might have powers like my sister, but she's nothing like any of you. Maybe you think she's weak, but she'd never use her abilities to hurt people, or to manipulate. She's selfless, and she's kind. She's stronger than all you put together!"

Ilia and Angus exchanged a look. "Very moving, Princess. But if you recall, it's us who have captured _you,_ " Ilia said dryly, before she felt the blow at the back of her head. Spots flickering in front of her eyes from the pain, the world blinked into darkness.

* * *

The world is transformed into an icy tundra. Elsa stumbles through the snow, the blizzard hitting her face, spitting in her eyes. She shelters her face with her hand, hair sticking to her numb lips, the wind bruising her skin pink and overripe.

The wind rips the word from her and tears it away into the sky— "An—na!"

The blizzard parts in front of her for a split second, long enough for Elsa to see far out into the glacier, stretching out endlessly in every direction.

Elsa's knees hit the powdered snow. The cold has never bothered her but still, she shivers.


	29. reflektor

Consciousness came creeping back to Anna like a guilty party, tip-toeing in at three in the morning, with foul breath and blistered heels. Her head throbbed, and her first thought was that she'd drunk too much and ugh, why had she done this to herself again?

Spots of light skipping across the film of her eyes, Anna found herself gazing at a bedroom set upon its side that she'd never seen before.

The keening sound of a door opening scraped across her brain, and a blurry figure wavered into her line of sight, blond hair and fuzzy edges.

Blinking hard, pushing herself up off the bed, Anna swallowed down the dryness in her throat and managed out hoarsely: "Elsa?"

But… that wasn't quite right. Elsa was captured by the Queen's sorcerers, and as the hazy bright edges dimmed she saw that it was Ada approaching her side.

"Funny," she said, slumping down on the bed, her head throbbing in protest. "You look more and more like my sister every time I see you. You're not related to the Arendelle royal family, are you?"

Ada didn't answer her, instead taking a seat on the edge of the bed and offering her a drink of water.

"I brought you some food, too," Ada said, as Anna downed the water in seconds. She set on the bed a plate of leftover sauerkraut and sausages. "I thought you might be hungry."

"Good call," said Anna, before she begun stuffing her face. God, she was hungry. The food demolished, her eyes adjusted, Anna took in her surroundings. It was one of the dozen guest rooms she'd helped clean. She'd been dumped onto the neatly made bed, and as she tried to slide her feet off to the side there was a heavy clank. Her ankle was cuffed, and a heavy chain trailed off the sheets to the wall.

"What were you thinking?" asked Ada. "Ilia told me she found you in the chamber in the basement. You were doing so well to not be discovered before then."

Anna winced. That'd been a stupid move. "I guess," she said, swallowing, "I just wanted to see my sister again." The real Elsa. Not Elsa Austenborg. It hadn't been a conscious decision she'd made; the Mirror had somehow exerted a powerful pull, and she'd been dragged right in.

"I don't know what else we can do now your disguise has been blown," Ada said.

Anna started. "You mean you didn't come here to untie me?"

"I had to ask the Queen if I could speak with you. She would know straight away if I let you escape."

"I thought you wanted to help Elsa and me," Anna said in frustration. The sauerkraut she'd stuffed her face with sat heavily in her stomach now.

Ada looked directly at her. "Tell me, then. What would you do if I let you go? Even if you somehow managed to get to Elsa past the guards, how would you get her out of the palace? You know as well as I do that Elsa can't break Ilia's illusions."

"I—" the one word hung, wavering in the air. "I would do something," Anna said at last. She looked at the girl sat on the end of her bed, and the words left her in a rush: "You could. You could do something. Queen Matilda trusts you. You could—"

"I can't," Ada said.

"But why?" Anna asked, brow furrowing. She didn't understand.

"I can't betray her," Ada said. "A long time ago… she saved my life."

"So you're just going to follow what she says blindly? Even though you know it's wrong?" Anna demanded.

Ada's eyes met hers. "When your sister froze your kingdom and people begun to say she was a witch and a monster, you didn't believe them, did you? You ignored them, and went to get her anyway. You helped her stop the blizzard. Because you never gave up on her."

"You… still think you can change her?" asked Anna.

"It's the Mirror that's done this." Ada spat the words. "She… in my memories, the Queen was a different woman. She was kind. Compassionate. She was like a mother to me. It's the Mirror that's poisoned her. And I— I can't betray her."

For a moment, Anna wondered what she would do if Elsa changed. If she became cold and cruel, and did cruel things. Would she be able to love her, if she became someone else?

"I want to ask you something," she said. "Why do you look like my sister?"

"I've never explained my magic properly to you, have I?" said Ada, and Anna shook her head. "I can see heart's desire. And when people look at me, they see their own."

"I— I thought you saw the future," Anna said, lump rising her in throat.

"That's the cover I use. When I was thirteen, the Queen started taking me on trips abroad, looking for the missing pieces of the Mirror. And… to satiate her greed, she used my power to discover the secrets of our hosts, to blackmail and extort them…" Ada spoke very softly, hands curled tightly in her lap. "I… I knew it was wrong. Always knew it, even if I tried to justify my actions in some way. But who was I to refuse the Queen, the woman who raised me? I kept trying to convince myself of that… until I met Elsa, anyway."

"Wait a minute…" everything slid into place. "I always wondered why Elsa decided so suddenly to marry Jareth. Why she just up and left Arendelle. You— you blackmailed her, didn't you?"

Ada flinched. "The Queen needed her here, in the Spring City. The marriage was just a ruse to get her here, and then Khublan could alter her memories to make her want to stay."

"What did you blackmail her with?" Anna demanded. But, even before Ada could answer, it clicked. She looked at Ada's wide, guilty eyes, and the word slipped from her lips. "…Me. You blackmailed her about me, didn't you?"

Ada nodded. She didn't look at her. "I told her we'd publicly reveal the truth about her feelings for you if she didn't marry one of the Queen's grandsons."

She couldn't believe it. Since they'd arrived in this city of illusions and shadow, Ada had been their only ally.

And now she found out that was all a lie, too?"

"I can't believe this. You act like you want to help us, but you're the reason all of this happened," Anna said, seething. "And, what, now you feel guilty about it? Don't you think it's a little late for remorse?"

"I warned Elsa not to come here," Ada protested weakly. "It told her not to do what the Queen wanted."

"Yeah, after you blackmailed her. If you really wanted to help Elsa, you wouldn't have done it in the first place."

"I couldn't just disobey the Queen…"

"Why not? Does she have a chain around your neck?" Ada wilted further, but Anna didn't let up. Anger coursed through her. "You're doing the same thing now. You won't untie me, so you feel guilty, and do some pointless half-measure like this," Anna jabbed her finger at empty plate of sauerkraut she'd brought her. "Well, you can stop it. I don't want your help anymore. Some help that it is. If you really didn't want the Queen to put that mirror back together, you'd go down there and smash it. You're just a coward. You hide behind other people's faces, but I don't even know who you are. And I'm not sure you know, either. Go! Leave me alone. And take your stinking sauerkraut. Go!"

—"and I'm not sure you know, either"—

Wasn't that, after all, really the problem?

To one a daughter, to another a sister, or to another a lover. No one looked at her and saw her.

Who was she?

Anna was right. She was so brave, coming alone to a strange country and putting herself in danger, all for her sister. Ada was a coward. She might make noises of protest, but outward defiance? She couldn't do it. The Queen, after all, was the only one who had seen Ada. The real Ada.

It was the Mirror which had corrupted her. It was all the Mirror's fault.

"If you really didn't want the Queen to put that mirror back together, you'd go down there and smash it."

Ada's mouth was dry. It was so simple. The Queen would be angry at her, but she would forgive her. Once the Mirror was gone, she'd go back to being herself.

She'd look at her and see her again, and not Cecilia.

She swallowed. She could do this. For once, she'd be brave. Like Anna. Smash the Mirror.

In the underground chamber, the Mirror glowed more brightly than ever. The runes that skipped under the skin of the stone walls buzzed agitatedly like a swarm of mayflies.

But something was different. Four stone slabs surrounded the Mirror, and lying upon them—

A gasp wrenched from her throat, Ada was on her knees beside Ilia. Shaking hands found her wrist and felt for a pulse. Only then did Ada's breathing begin to even. Ilia was only unconscious, her face a picture of the serene. She slept peacefully.

Ada eased herself off her knees and through the eerie gloom saw Angus, Khublan and Elsa lying upon the other slabs, sleeping.

The Queen said she needed their magic to complete the Mirror, so why…?

Picking up the heaviest object she could find, an old brass lamp, Ada stepped into the otherworldly glow of the Mirror.

Her own eyes stared back at her.

More than once, Ada had considered that she was likely the only person who looked into this mirror and saw only herself looking back.

"I can tell what you're intending, Ada," her reflection said. Her heart skipped a beat, and she almost dropped the lamp.

"S-since when can you speak?" she managed out.

"The more you've helped put me back together, the more of my power I've reclaimed. And today, my power is at its height," her reflection said, speaking in her own voice, eyes slipping closed. "I can almost taste completion."

"I fear you won't experience that," Ada said, fingers tightening over the handle of the lamp. "You've done enough damage."

The voice that left her reflection in the Mirror was one she'd never heard leave her mouth: it was low, silky, seductive. "Surely you, too, have something you desire, Ada? I can make that come true."

Ada shook her head. "I don't have anyone I desire." Plenty handsome men and beautiful women looked at her with love and lust in their eyes. But they'd always been looking at someone else. "I've wealth enough. I've no interest in fame."

"And yet, there is something you want. A want so painful your heart feels like it could break." Her reflection's eyes, her eyes bored into her own. And Ada couldn't seem to look away. "You want me," her reflection murmured. "You want people to see me. To see you. The real you. You can't stand it when people look at you, and see someone else. You hate it. You hate you. And you lash out. That's why you couldn't help but mock Queen Elsa. You hate her, because she sees her sister, and not you. You hate the world. You hate everything. As much as you love Queen, you hate her, too, because she sees her dead daughter instead of you. Because—"

"Stop," Ada gasped out. Her fingers, weakly clasping the lamp handle, were sweating. Her heart was pounding. "H-how? How do you know these things?" How did she know them, when even Ada didn't know them herself?

Her reflection smiled. "Come now. I know you've worked it out by now."

No. Ada closed her eyes, but she could still feel her red heartbeat pulsing behind her eyelids.

The similarities had always unnerved her. The Mirror had the same power she possessed. And that's why—

"Why you were wary of me. Why you resisted the idea of eternity when your companions ate it up like ice cream. Deep down, you knew, and you were afraid," her reflection said, pulling her thought straight out of her head before she had a chance to speak them.

"It's— it's true then?" asked Ada, trembling. "You are… this Mirror is…—"

"Yes. I am you, Ada. You are me. We are the Mirror."

"But… how is something like that—" she could hardly breathe, "—even, even possible?"

"Eons ago, we were split into pieces, an enchantment laid upon us that we would never be able to be put back together. Seventeen years ago, Queen Matilda accidentally triggered this enchantment and we were scattered to all the corners of the Earth. With all our pieces shattered, our reflection was broken. It was born again, inside a child. A baby girl. You, Ada."

The Mirror's reflection, inside her? Her fingers tightened painfully, the metal handle of the lantern biting into her skin, denial rising up in throat. "No— this has to be some kind of trick. This is all— all just absurd."

"Then tell me why only you could sense our shattered fragments," said her reflection. Ada opened her mouth, and closed it. She'd always thought it a part of her magic. For years she and Queen Matilda had travelled looking for them. And she had felt them, something twanging inside her like a tuning fork, strengthening and tightening as they drew closer.

Her eyes fixed upon the heart of the Mirror, where still four large shards were missing. "But I was never able to find them all." Something that had always rankled within her— she'd thought it was because she was letting her queen down.

"Untrue," said her reflection. "You've done well, Ada. All our pieces exist now in this very room."

Ada turned from the Mirror, brow furrowed in confusion. In this very room? How was that even possible?

It hit her. Four missing pieces. Four stone slabs. Four sleepers sleeping.

She felt her knees hit the cold stone before she realised she'd crumpled beside Elsa.

"No," she said.

"Why do you think you were so drawn to her?" asked her reflection.

"I thought— I thought I wanted to help her. I thought…" she didn't know what she had thought. Her mind was a mess. She couldn't think.

Now she was looking for it, Ada could feel it, just as she'd felt all the rest. Something twanged inside of her. Nestled in Queen Elsa's heart, cradled by muscle and bone: one of the final four parts of the Mirror.

Part of her.

Her voice was trembling: "If all the pieces are put back together… will I become more than just a reflection? Will I become complete?"

The her in the Mirror was smiling. "We will," she said.

Slowly, her slick fingers released their hold on the lamp. She straightened, her voice strengthened as she asked, "How?"

"Become one with me," said her reflection. She raised her hands, offering them.

Tentatively, and then with more certainty, Ada reached out to her. A noise of amazement escaped her lips as her fingers parted the surface of the Mirror as though it was made of water. She felt the buzz of magic against her skin. Warmth. Light.

Hands clasped her own. And her reflection took her hands and pulled Ada through the glass and into the Mirror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote most of this chapter while I was on holiday in Orlando. I went to Disney World! It was fantastic! Especially since I'm from the UK and never thought I'd get to go. Didn't get to meet Anna and Elsa cuz, weirdly, my family didn't want two hours to meet them (crazy, right?) but I did get to go to the Frozen sing along, which is something I've always wanted to do.
> 
> Title comes from the song 'reflektor' by Arcade Fire, which I listened to after it was referenced in In the Absence of Sun by gcschelt. Which you should totally read, by the way, because it's the best elsanna fic.
> 
> Thanks again for all your comments, and to my fantastic beta-reader Nicole.
> 
> I forget if I've mentioned already, but we're at the final arc of this fic. I can't give a specific number of chapters remaining because I'm not great at estimating how many pages the bullet points in my notebook will turn into, but at an estimate I'd say 4-8 left.


	30. the blizzard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recap: Elsa is trapped in an illusion of a blizzard of Ilia's creation. Anna is immobilized, tied up in the guest room. There's nothing left to stop Queen Matilda from completing the plot she begun 17 years ago. Ada, who contains the reincarnated soul of the Mirror, has stepped inside its silvered surface. The only thing left to do is replace the four missing pieces of Mirror, trapped inside the bodies of Elsa and the Queen's sorcerers.

When Ada woke, she felt like she was underwater. She felt the pressure of the water pressing in on her, and immediately panicked. Eyes slammed open and she scrambled in what she hoped was upwards for the surface. Hands flew to her mouth as she gasped and sucked into water into her lungs.

Only to find she could breathe perfectly fine.

Ada's hands dropped tentatively from the clamp around her mouth, heart still ramming against her ribcage.

"Ada?" She heard the familiar voice as though through a great distance. "Ada, can you hear me?"

Eyes focused though the distortion. Queen Matilda stood before her, only a metre away but oddly separate. Ada squeezed her eyelids closed to clear her vision, but the film-like haze didn't vanish.

"I can hear you." Her own voice sounded strange to her. Deeper somehow, crackling with the potent tang of power.

Matilda squinted at her as though she was peering into the depths of a scrying window. "How do you feel?" she asked carefully.

"I feel…" Ada flexed her fingers. Something sparked between them, the power of her birthright crackling through her body. Leaping through neurons and firing through synapses like supernovas. "…Like I could do anything," she said breathlessly. Magic created at the dawn of time and trapped in the silvered surface of a single mirror and it ran through her veins, power like liquid electricity burning through her arteries.

She could do anything. Reorganise the universe. Change time, force it to march to the beat of _her_ command, _her_ desire. Except…

"I'm not complete," she said. More. She needed more. She could feel the slivers of glass that contained the missing portions of her power, trapped within flesh and bone. It would be easy, effortlessly easy to rip them from their feeble prisons of flesh to take them inside herself and absorb their power.

 _No…_ murmured the part of her that was still Ada. _I won't hurt my friends. I won't hurt Elsa._

"How?" she demanded of the Queen, the question the electric crack of a whip. "The missing pieces. How do I retrieve them?"

"There is a spell," said Matilda, still watching her quite closely and carefully. "Of ancient binding and power."

Some of Ada's own tenor crept into the crackling voice of the Mirror: "I can remove the pieces without hurting them?"

Matilda's wrinkles deepened as her mouth cracked open into a smile. "It's as you said: you can do anything."

Ada felt the pieces shift fractionally in their hosts, tugged towards her like the tides to the moon, responding to her desire. Now that she'd sensed them, it was agony to feel them so close to her but apart. She would become complete. She must become complete. Her voice hitched as she rasped: "This spell. Do it."

Matilda opened the book in her hands. And began to read.

The words left the Queen's lips with the metallic hiss of power. Ada looked to Elsa, to see the strange glow at her chest where the shard of Mirror was lodged. Just a tiny sliver of silver that had so amplified Elsa's abilities that she'd once froze an entire kingdom. The glow at her chest radiated outwards, and she was lifted up from the slab by invisible hands, limp head lolling backwards and hair tumbling.

Those same hands lifted Ilia, Angus and Khublan, glowing blue-white where the shards lodged in their flesh. Those shards that manifested the different aspects of the Mirror.

In Ilia, the Mirror's illusion.

In Khublan, its deception.

In Angus, its trickery.

And in Elsa, rested the Mirror's own cold, icy heart.

Ada's breath was dragged from her chest as the shards were pulled from their hosts, phasing through flesh and bone harmlessly. For a second, they hung suspended. Then with a magnetic force, they were wrenched through the air with a such a velocity that left them a blur.

The surge in power Ada felt as the missing pieces slotted back into the spaces made the air crackle with energy. The nordic runes that crept sluggishly over the walls of the chamber like oil on water went crazy, scattering like a frightened swarm of hornets.

Queen Matilda spoke the final words of the spell, and the contract was complete.

A white light engulfed everything.

* * *

Having never experienced it before, it took Elsa several minutes to figure out the sensation she was feeling.

Staggering, exhausted across the expanse of the frozen glacier, Elsa concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Her feet were blistered and bloodied, cut from walking barefoot over the uneven ice sheets. Worse: there were rifts in the ice, pitfalls and cracks that ran along to form ravines so deep Elsa couldn't see to the bottom. In some places the ice was wafer thin, an illusion concealing a long fall and an agonising death deep at the bottom of the glacier. It made Elsa's progress agonisingly slow, as she had no choice but to carefully test the ice as she walked, ready to reinforce it with her own if it failed beneath her. Still, she staggered forward, one blistered foot in front of the other, the blizzard tearing at her clothes and hair, snow stinging her eyes.

That was when Elsa felt it. She gasped aloud, clutching her arms tight around her body. The pain at her feet became excruciating. The feeling ate its way into her, into the marrow of her bones. When she breathed, she felt it, stabbing at the pith of her lungs.

For the first time in life, Elsa felt cold.

The pain from the stinging wind was unbearable. It felt like a hailstorm of needles being driven into her skin. She couldn't continue on like this. Elsa raised her hands to create a shelter, to wait out the storm in.

Nothing happened.

She could visualise the shelter in her head, but it wouldn't translate. The warm undercurrent of her powers than tingled under her skin wasn't there anymore. She stared at her hands, quickly now turning numb.

Her powers. They were gone.

She could hardly think _how_ , or _why_ , or even think at all. All she could think of was _warmth, shelter, heat._

Elsa only staggered another fifty feet across the ice before she fell. She tripped, and there, lying in the snow, the easiest thing seemed to be just to stay put. The cold that ate away at her body seemed to be leeching away now, replaced by an almost pleasant warmth. In fact, her forehead was hot to the touch. She laid her head into the snow for relief. Once sharp, cold and cutting, it seemed soft now. Like a comfortable pillow. Perhaps, she would rest her eyes. Just for a moment…

Elsa forced them open again, when she imagined her sister crying as they unburied her cold, lifeless body from under the snowdrift.

Anna. She had to get back to Anna.

No. She had to get away from Anna.

Elsa pressed her palms against her eyes. Everything was so confusing. Her forehead was burning now, and the world seemed to be turning on its axis.

The last thing Elsa saw before she passed out was the blizzard as it momentarily parted. Like a mirage floating upon the horizon, hung between curtains of white. Arendelle.

* * *

Elsa dreams. A dark, convoluted tangle of dreams, fiction and memory weaving round one another in a dance. She dreams she wakes up, only to sleep. She cannot wake up. When she stirs, close to the surface, it feels as though there's a weight on her chest, pushing her back down to the depths. Sometimes, she has a vague awareness of voice and movement, but she's never sure if that too is her mind playing tricks on her.

She's aware she's sick. She feels it sometimes, when she's close enough to the surface. Her forehead is boiling hot and her throat feels as though someone's stuffed a burning coal down it. She's exhausted, from fighting both the illness and the dreams. It's easier to slip back into slumber, away from the nonsense whispers that echo as though she's deep underwater.

She dreams for hours, days, years, millennia, and when Elsa finally wakes, she wakes to a delightfully cool feeling, brushing her forehead. A hand, teasing tendrils of hair back behind her ear, drawing her back to consciousness.

For several minutes, Elsa was content to lay there, exhaustion heavy in her bones, letting the hand gently brush against her head.

When it was removed, along with that cool relief, Elsa couldn't help but release a small noise, like that of a child deprived of a toy.

"Elsa? Are you awake?" She knew that voice. As content as she was to lay there forever, it prompted her to push her exhausted eyelids open.

The dim light of the gas lamps stung her eyes like the midday sun. She squinted, shut them, and tried again. It was easier this time. Something had moved in front of the glare of the lamp. Blinking, Elsa looked up to see her sister hanging over her, hair falling like a long curtain, surrounded by a halo of light.

The voice that crawled out of Elsa's hoarse throat was chipped and cracked: "Anna?"

"Oh, Elsa." She leaned down to hug Elsa. As well as she could, with Elsa lying prone. She spoke into the material of her nightgown: "You slept for so long, and your fever wouldn't break. We were afraid you'd never wake up."

"What happened?" Elsa managed to ask.

"The rescue party found you collapsed out on the ice. You've been asleep for a week, Elsa!" When Anna pulled back, her eyes were wet with tears.

"What… what was I doing out there?" Everything felt so jumbled in her head. The Spring City, and the weeks she was someone else. Somehow, she'd ended out on the glacier, too. She couldn't tell what had actually happened and what had been a fever dream.

Only Anna's hand, which had returned to her forehead to brush back her hair, felt real.

"I don't know," Anna said. "You disappeared, weeks ago. No-one knew where you were. The staff were frantic."

The staff…? Elsa's eyes, now adjusting to the light, roamed around the room. They were in Elsa's bedroom, in Arendelle Castle. There was her quill sat on her desk, exactly how she'd left it. Her books. Her dressing gown, hung on the hook by her door. The only thing that was different was the shutters on the window had been barred against the storm that still rampaged outside.

It was true that she thought she'd seen Arendelle out on the glacier, but it'd been her mind playing tricks on her, right?

"I'm… home?" asked Elsa, in disbelief.

"You're home," Anna echoed, leaning forward to press a cool kiss to her forehead.

It would be effortlessly easy to accept this. To lie back and take her sister's caresses and think no more of it. But Elsa forced herself to ask, "But, how? How did I get here? Before, I was in a hedge maze in the Spring City. You were…" her words dried up as she remembered how they'd last parted. How could she be allowed back into Arendelle after what she'd said to the Admiral? Unless the bars on the window weren't to protect against the storm outside.

But to her surprise, Anna laughed. "It sounds like you had some interesting dreams while you were out."

"…Dreams?"

"You have never been to the Spring City before, Elsa," Anna said, speaking very slowly to Elsa, as though she was a small child.

Wait, what?

She supposed it was possible that everything that happened in the Spring City had been a dream. Certainly, if she'd been told about what would happen a month ago, Elsa wouldn't have believed it.

"So the wedding was in here Arendelle instead?" she said, trying to make sense of this.

But Anna's brow crumpled in confusion at this, too. "Wedding? Is there something you want to tell me, Elsa?"

"You must remember that," Elsa insisted. "The Winter Paegent. I married Prince Jareth."

"Wow, Elsa. And you thought I was weird when I was sick and woke up thinking I was Joan of Arc."

Despite herself, Elsa's lips twitched upwards at the memory. "I remember that. You burst out of bed yelling, 'Where is my horse?'"

"It took ages for Kai to convince me I wasn't a holy warrior fighting for the glory of France," Anna said, stifling laughter. "If there were any Englishmen in the castle, I would have run them through!"

"With what?" Elsa said, laughter hurting her painful throat. "That chair leg you were brandishing around?"

"In my defence," said Anna, "I thought it was Excalibur."

"Now here I was thinking Excalibur was King Arthur's sword…"

"Hey! It was a dream, okay? It doesn't have to make sense."

Their laughter was easy and comfortable. It was almost like the last terrible month had never happened. Back when things were simple and easy between her and her sister. Before everything got so screwed up. Back when she and Anna could have a dumb conversation about Joan of Arc.

And Elsa considered: Maybe it was. Maybe it had all been a dream.

The months of tension that had begun the day Franz mentioned the Paegent began to leak away. All the stress she'd held in her muscles began to relax.

If it didn't hurt just to talk, she might have shouted aloud. It was all a dream! Everything was going to be okay.

As the sisters chatted easily, Anna left Elsa's forehead to hold her hand, dangling freely in the space beside the bed. An old echo of fear hit Elsa's chest as she thought: I shouldn't be touching her. My powe—

She recalled the realisation she'd had on the ice. Experimentally, she tried to frost over a fingernail. A small display of power, since she didn't think she had the strength to do much more. But just like on the glacier, nothing happened.

Anna was part way through a story, punctuated by giggles, about how she'd put pepper in Kai's tea as a child when Elsa burst out, the words tearing her hoarse throat: "My powers! They're gone."

"Huh?" said Anna, who looked quite put out at the interruption.

"My ice powers!" It hurt to shout, and she moderated her voice. "My ice powers. They're broken… or… or something. I— I can't feel them like I usually can." A note of panic crept into her voice. Even though they'd caused her so much grief, her powers had been a part of her so long that to be without them felt… wrong.

Like a part of her was missing.

But to her surprise, Anna smirked. "You realise I'm never gonna let you live this one down, Elsa."

"What?"

"You must have hit your head on that ice or something. Ice powers. Oh boy." She was still laughing when the knock came at the door, managing to swallow down her giggles enough to call for their visitors to come in.

Although her ice powers might have vanished, when Elsa looked up to see the two people in the doorway, her blood froze cold.

Anna clamped a hand over her mouth to stop the laughter, twisting in her seat to face the visitors.

"She's awake!" Anna said. "As, uh, you can see. Oh, but Papa, you have to hear this. She's convinced she has ice powers. Pew pew!"

They didn't look a day older than the day she'd hugged them goodbye. Flesh and blood, they were there, everything she remembered and all the things about them she'd forgotten. It'd been five years since they died, but the King and Queen of Arendelle walked into her bedroom as though they'd never left.


	31. everstorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recap: The Mirror has been put back together. Elsa stumbles through the blizzard, discovering that she no longer has use of her powers. She passes out on the ice and when she wakes, finds herself back in Arendelle. Nursing her, Anna tells her the last few months never happened. Elsa almost believes her, until her dead parents walk in. Surely not even the power of the Mirror can bring back the dead. Right?

The wind howled, whistling eerily, a vicious draft gusting through cracks and crannies in the castle. The shutters on Elsa's window banged repeatedly, knocking against the reinforced wooden bars as though someone wanted to come in.

 _This has to be a dream_ , Elsa thought. _There's just no way this is real._

"Elsa, we were so worried about you, darling," her mother said. She slipped up onto the side of the bed, and just like when Elsa was small, pressed the back of her hand to Elsa's forehead.

There was no way, but she _felt_ real.

"You still feel feverish," said her mother. A voice she hadn't heard in three years, it had become a distant memory. But at that half familiar tone, Elsa was wrenched back in time. She felt eighteen again. "I'll get Gerda to bring some medicine up. How are you feeling?"

There was no way, but she felt real. Looked real. _Sounded_ real.

"I—" Elsa choked out, the words spongy, sticking to the back of her throat. "I don't—"

"Elsa, you're shaking," said her mother. The concern tucked into the corners of her mouth broke Elsa, the words she was attempting shattering into pieces.

A ferocious gust of wind slammed the shutters against the bars with a _bang_.

"But, you're both supposed to be dead," she managed to gasp. Silence greeted this pronouncement. The Queen looked over her shoulder at her husband, who wore an expression just as baffled as her.

"She was saying a bunch of stuff like that when she woke up," Anna said nervously, hanging back. "I didn't think it was this bad though."

Against protesting muscles, Elsa pushed herself up into a sitting position on the bed, pausing when the world span violently. Anna rushed to her side to steady her, her mother building up her pillows she could sit comfortably.

"Elsa, please rest. You're not well," said her father, in that tone she never would have dared disobey as a child. But Elsa shook her head, tears burning her eyes. "No," she said, and when the word left her in a hoarse whisper, she tried again. More strongly. "No. You _died_. I mourned you. Anna and I, we grew up without you. I—" her voice faltered and failed, tears dividing the world into pieces of cloudy kaleidoscope.

And Elsa felt warm arms close around her. She blinked away tears, to find herself staring at the detail on the sapphire broach cinched at her mother's neckline. Her mother pulled her closer against her, fingers ghosting through her hair.

Her father laid the comforting weight of his hand against her shoulder. "It's okay, Elsa. It was a just a dream. It's over now," he said.

"We're right here," said her mother, voice close to her ear. "We'd never leave you and your sister. You know that, right?"

Anna plonked herself down on the bedspread by her feet a squeezed a comforting smile. "It's all going to be fine, you big dork."

There were too many questions that needed answering, but Elsa couldn't hold it back anymore. Even if this was a dream and in a few minutes she'd wake up, her parents were alive. There were right here, flesh and blood, by her side.

For weeks after their death, she'd clung onto this hope. That one day she'd wake up, and things would be back to normal. That her parents weren't really dead. That it'd only been a dream.

Elsa allowed herself to think: maybe it really had.

She squeezed her mother, her _mama_ , with every fibre of her being, burying her face in the crook of her neck. The tears she'd been holding back streamed freely down her face.

She still wore the same forget-me-not perfume.

"You're back," she sobbed into her shoulder. "You're really back. Mama. Papa." She was a helpless, gross sobbing mess— salty tears soaking into the material of her mother's gown— but she didn't care, as long as her mama kept stroking her hair. As long as they stayed with her.

She didn't know how much time had elapsed before her mama gently pulled away. It was a struggle not to cling to her like a child, afraid that once she let go, she'd Queen pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at Elsa's eyes. She struggled to get a hold of herself. This was a happy moment. She shouldn't be crying.

"Sorry," she managed out. Her throat felt hoarser than ever for all the crying.

"It's alright. You've been sick for a long time, Elsa. It's natural things might be confusing for a while. You need to rest."

Elsa found herself nodding. Gerda arrived then with a bottle of medicine, the same sickly sweet stuff she remembered from her childhood.

"It makes my heart glad to see you back safe, Princess Elsa," she said. "We were all so worried about you."

Anna sat cross-legged on the end of the bed as they chatted about mundane things: the new maid, Hilda, and her romance with one of the grooms in the stables; plans for the celebration for the 25th anniversary of the King's coronation; some renovations to the throne room. Mostly, Elsa kept quiet, watching, remembering all the little details that'd been leeched away by time. Like the mole on the back of her mother's left hand. The way Papa touched his chin when he laughed. When he finally rose from his seat, announcing their intentions to check back on her later, Elsa couldn't help but exclaim, "Wait!"

Her parents waited, hovering by the door.

The words teetered on the tip of her tongue. The ones she'd always wished she'd said on that morning, three years ago. "I love you," Elsa said.

They both smiled, her papa putting a hand on his wife's shoulder. "We love you too, Elsa. You have no idea how glad we are to have you back."

It took everything in Elsa not to burst out crying again. The emotion was a tight bottle stopper in her throat as she managed out, "Me too, Papa."

* * *

For the next few days, every time Elsa woke she was disorientated to find herself in her room in the castle. She kept waiting for the dream to end. For her to wake up.

But she didn't.

Little by little, her fever began to subside. Her pains faded to aches. She could talk again without it hurting. Outside, the storm raged unceasing, wind and snow lashing against the walls, hail slamming against her window like a battering ram.

Papa would come to perch on the end of the bed and ask how she was feeling. Mama would visit and comb her hair. Anna rarely left, lounging on the bed and chattering from dawn to dusk. One day, when the storm was particularly fierce, slamming the shutters repeatedly, Elsa said, "That storm sounds terrible. I don't think it's let up since I woke up."

"Oh boy," sighed Anna.

"What is it?"

"I really hope you get your memory back soon," Anna said. When she saw her baffled expression, she carried on: "That storm is, well— actually, it'd probably be better if I showed you. Do you think you'd be okay to walk a bit? We'll take it slowly."

Elsa quickly agreed. After spending so long confined to her room, she felt like she was going to start running up the walls soon.

Anna fetched her slippers out from under the bed and Elsa attempted to ease into her dressing gown. She was still stiff from the heavy bruising all up her left side and shoulder, marked an ugly blotchy yellow colour. When Anna saw she was struggling, she rushed to her. Elsa flushed as their skin made contact, Anna helping her thread her arms through the right holes.

"Oh hey, Elsa. You must be getting better. You've got a lot more colour in your face now!" Anna said, voice bright and chipper. Elsa burned even hotter, and Anna's beaming smile begun to twist into a concerned frown. "I hope your fever's not coming back," she said, placing her palm over Elsa's forehead.

"I'm fine," said Elsa, twisting away with embarrassment. "Let's just go."

Anna's touch reminded her too much of the hedge maze. Anna's hand upon her face. _Say it with me: you won't hurt me._

Elsa reminded herself: _None of those things really happened._ Here, her and Anna's relationship was sisterly. Proper. Just as it should be.

If she still felt a pang of loss when Anna's hand fell away, it was just going to be something she'd have to deal with.

In the castle, everything looked exactly as she remembered. Though there was a certain gloom to those corridors and hallways, all the shutters barred against the raging storm. It reminded Elsa uncomfortably of her childhood, those years after her eighth birthday when all the bright airy windows of Arendelle Castle had been closed. There was a similar kind of musk to the air that pulled her back to those days— a kind of shut-up, dusty sort of smell, that to Elsa had always tasted of unhappiness.

"Anna… did Mama and Papa… every try to separate us when we were younger?" she asked.

"Why would they do that?" Anna asked, looking over at her in confusion.

The dusty taste left a tight feeling in her throat. "To protect us."

Anna's hands tightened around her arm. "Our parents love us. They would never do something like that," she said.

Elsa swallowed, hard. What did that mean? That their parents, in that other place she remembered, _didn't_ love them?

Despite the shut up windows, nothing else reminded her of those years. Even closed up, the castle was bustling with staff. Passing them in the corridor, maids curtsied and greeted them warmly: "Great to see you feeling a bit better, Princess Elsa."; "Glad to see you up and well, Princess!"; "We're so happy to have you back safe, your Highness."

As Anna took Elsa further, she began to wonder where her sister was taking her. Twice they stopped to rest, Elsa finding she was still running out of breath easily.

When they reached the bottom of a steep winding staircase, Elsa figured out where they were going. "The north tower," she said, and her lips quirked into a smile. "Didn't Papa ban us from coming here when were kids after you tried to toboggan down from the top?"

"In retrospect, it was probably about as smart as riding our bike-for-two down the grand staircase," Anna said, grinning.

"Just remembering that hurts," Elsa said, as she cringed. "Why is it that my _little_ sister was the bad influence? Surely that's the wrong way round."

"We always had fun though, right?"

"Yes, I guess we did." It was always Anna that nudged her into their more wilder adventures. Sometimes she'd have to cajole or beg Elsa into it, but they always ended up having fun.

And without Elsa's powers, those games never would have had to end. Elsa never would have hurt her. They never would have been separated. Their parents would never have taken that trip to Corona to try and learn more about controlling her powers. They never would have been orphaned.

She and Anna would never have grown up isolated, alone.

And though her powers might have come under her control, Arendelle thawed, their relationship would never have been so irrevocably charged and changed.

Elsa started back to reality when her foot, waiting for another step, met air. They were at the top of the tower. Elsa blinked at the sudden light that filtered in through the windows on hexagonal walls.

Had the storm ceased?

Anna led her out onto the balcony, and a strange feeling of vertigo hit Elsa.

"The storm… it's below us," she said, fingers gripping hard to the balustrade. Her words were lost in the twisting tempestuous fury of the snowstorm. A thick ring of clouds, it circled the castle like a wedding band. Further out, there was nothing but white, and the blue horizon.

Arendelle wasn't below the blizzard. It _was_ the blizzard.

"We call it the Everstorm," Anna shouted, voice rising above the whistling and groaning of the wind. "Sometimes it parts, or slows. But never never ceases. Not ever."

"Ever? But what about-" The wind ate the words, and raised her voice: "But what about the rest of Arendelle?" she shouted. There was no way the people in their kingdom would survive an eternal blizzard.

"Arendelle? You were there. That's where the search party found you," yelled Anna.

That frozen tundra.

Elsa's voice cracked as she said, "This— this is terrible."

"Why?" shouted Anna, slipping her hand into hers. "The storm is here to protect us. Nothing can get in, and nothing can get out. We're safe here." There was an intensity in Anna's eyes that she was drawn to, away from the writhing mass of the storm. Anna squeezed her hand. "You and I, we'll never lose anything else ever again," her sister said.

* * *

**To be continued.**


	32. the princess who caught a falling star

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap: The Mirror has been put back together. Elsa stumbles through the blizzard to find herself in Arendelle. A strange Arendelle, where her parents are alive and the castle is surrounded by a strange eternal blizzard called the 'everstorm.' Caught by the guards, Anna is trapped in a guest room in the Spring City. But it's up to her to discover what's happening, if the sisters have any hope of calming the blizzard.
> 
> To go forward, she'll have go go back, and discover how it all began.

_This is useless._ Anna felt as though she'd spent the best part of, well, _forever_ , trying to saw the bedpost in half. The cuff at her ankle was chained to it, and with what she'd considered a stroke of genius- an hour ago, that is- she'd realised Ada had left the cutlery she'd brought with her earlier. However, the serrated edge of the knife had now been worn down until it was almost blunt, and all Anna was left with was a pathetic looking inch-deep cut in the bedpost. And an aching wrist.

In frustration, she threw the dinner knife down. _There's no way this is going to work._ She slumped down, face forward on the bed like a starfish, nursing her aching wrist and generally feeling sorry for herself.

After Ada left this morning ( _left_ , thought Anna, a generous word, considering the girl had fled in tears after the things Anna said to her) she'd heard the guards outside her room chatting for a while. She'd even heard the jangle of keys and thought someone was going to come in, but after an almighty crash it'd suddenly gone silent. For the last few hours, she'd heard nothing. Not the chatter of the guards. Not footfalls of anyone passing. Zilch.

It was almost an unnatural quiet. Even the birds outside had stopped twittering.

She regretted yelling at Ada. It'd felt good at the time… until the door closed and Anna realised she'd lost the last person willing to help her. It hadn't been a lot of help, but, still.

Anna peeled herself off the bed. _There has to be another angle to approach this from._

Thus, lying underneath the bed, staring up at the springs, Anna spied the screws connecting the bedpost to the frame. She grabbed the knife and using the rounded end of it, begun the long and frustrating task of unfastening the lag bolts from the nuts. Difficult, since a dinner knife was definitely not the tool built for the job and kept slipping out, but finally the final screw hit the wooden floor with a _clink_. Anna wanted to cheer aloud.

Until the whole bed collapsed at one end with a loud crash.

Anna's hands flew to cover her mouth. _Anyone half a mile from here must have heard that!_ She pulled the bedpost loose, still chained to her ankle, and held it out awkwardly as though brandishing a sword.

But there was no frantic jangle of keys. The door wasn't knocked down. _Huh_ , thought Anna, as she lowered the bedpost. Tentatively she approached the door and peered through the keyhole. The sight this yielded her was however just a particularly nice key-hole sized piece of rosemaling. Fully expecting it to be locked, Anna tried the handle. She nearly dropped her bedpost when it opened.

When no guards pounced on her, she opened it a crack further and peered out. The corridor was empty. And weirdly, there was a ring of keys hanging form the lock and an upturned tray on the floor. Water from a metal jug soaked into the carpet and the remainder of what was presumably to be her dinner was decorating the floor. But whoever was carrying it was long gone, as though they'd just up and vanished.

Raising her makeshift weapon again, Anna crept quietly through the palace, and found anomaly after anomaly like the one before. A mop and bucket, abandoned in the corridor. A set of fine china in pieces on the floor of the solarium. A set of dentures abandoned in a glass of water.

And likewise: their owners were no-where to be found. The palace was completely and inexplicably, _empty_.

Without the normal hustle and bustle, it felt strangely eerie.

Anna looked first for Elsa in her room, but in truth knew it wasn't her bedroom where she'd find her. Today was the winter solstice, and it was with trepidation she descended the long winding staircase to the subterranean chamber.

Anna knew something was different as soon as her first heavy footfall echoed off the flagstone stairs. She ran her fingers along the wall, carved from roughly hewn rock. The strange runes that crawled over the surface were frozen, hung suspended. As she approached the bottom there was an odd brightness coming from the chamber. Anna hurried the last few steps, footfalls slapping against the flagstones, and found herself blinking in the sudden sunlight.

The chamber was gone. The cuff around her ankle was gone. Anna looked up from her feet to set eyes on the largest tree she'd ever seen.

A hundred men stood hand in hand could not cover the circumference of the trunk. The roots, knotted and gnarled, measured a mile. Anna cricked her neck trying to see the top of it. It seemed to go on forever.

 _Whoa._ Anna stood for a minute in the sun-speckled silence, watching the heavy boughs creak in the breeze, leaves crinkling like tinfoil. She was so enraptured in awe that when she heard the bracken crack beside her, the surprise was like a punch to the gut.

There was a woman, only a few feett from her, crouched before the roots of the massive tree. She must have been there the whole time, and Anna had not noticed.

She flushed. "I'm sorry! I didn't see you there. I—"

The rest of her apology petered off when she realised the woman was crying. _Urr. This is awkward._

Her eyes fixed on the outlandish outfit the woman was wearing. She looked like she'd stepped out of a painting. She wore a shining breastplate over her wool-skin tunic, a white wolf's pelt over her shoulders. An impressive looking sword hung at her hip, the silver blade shimmering with runes that skipped like dragonflies on water. She covered her eyes with her hands and she cried as though her heart was breaking.

Anna hesitated another second, teetering uncertainly, and then squatted down beside her. "Are you okay?" she asked. _Dumb question,_ thought Anna, since the woman was sobbing her heart out. "Is— is there anything I can do?" she asked instead. The woman didn't respond, and Anna reached out a tentative hand for the woman's shoulder.

She felt a cold chill when it phased right through her.

"You can't comfort her, Anna. Her grief has long since passed. Now, like the rest of the Vanir, she sleeps eternal."

Anna's head whipped round at the voice, clutching her hand to her chest. A girl stood over her, perhaps a year or so younger than herself. Her voice, however, was not a girl's voice. It rumbled with a dozen timbres, echoing like a choir inside the confines of a stone-walled church. Her dress was made of a shimmering, reflective material, cinched at the waist with a leather belt. She wore a long waistcoat, studded with snowflakes, flaring behind her on the grass like a trail. Her hair was bronze, and she wore a circlet of gold. Her face was long, mouth small, eyes dark and sad.

She looked half familiar, though at the same time Anna felt a certainty she'd never met this girl before in her life. _But she said my name._ "Do I know you?" she asked.

"In a way," said the girl. "You met the part of me that was known as _Ada_."

"Ada?" Anna stood, brushing away the dirt and bracken from her dress. "But you…" _You look nothing like Ada,_ she meant to say, before she recalled the conversation they'd had. _I can see heart's desire. And when people look at me, they see their own._ "This… is what you really look like?" she asked.

Ada nodded. Anna glanced up, taking the light stencilled through the leaves of the humongous tree. The woman in armour knelt, still crying. "Uh. Do you have any idea what's going on here?"

"These are my memories," Ada said.

"Your _memories_?" Anna was sure her eyebrows must be saying _hello_ to her hair right now.

"There's a lot to explain, and I thought it would be quicker, and easier, if I just showed you."

"But that woman is dressed like she lived in… like the 11th century or something," Anna protested.

"It was more like the 7th, actually. She's Freyja, one of the goddesses of the Vanir. Her brother-husband Freyr has just died, fighting in the war against the Aesir. She's come to mourn him, here, at Yggdrasil."

Anna's protests were becoming weaker. "But those are myths. I learnt about them as a child. They're just stories."

"Didn't you once think that magic was the same? As you put it, a _story_?"

 _Fair point,_ thought Anna, before she shut her mouth. Possibly Ada had the best idea and she should just let her show her.

"I brought you back here because I need your help, Anna. And this story can't have an ending unless you first know the beginning." There was an eeriness to the echo of Ada's voice. Something about it sounded metallic, inhuman. A hundred voices spoke together as she said: "This is the story of my birth."

Ada directed her eyes to the goddess Freyja. Her tears fell like rain upon the earth. But they weren't ordinary tears. They hit the soil and rolled, like beads of mercury. Tear after tear fell, and the tendrils stretched together, pooling into a reflective surface.

A mirror.

Freyja wiped the tears from her eyes and looked on in wonder. She picked up the mirror and stared into it. For it wasn't her reflection that stared back.

"Freyr!" the goddess exclaimed. "Freyr, you've come back to me. Beloved brother!"

The goddess pressed her forehead to the mirror, the solidification of her grief, her longing, and her tears ran freely once gain, sliding down the surface like raindrops.

And then the sunlight dimmed, as though clouds had smothered the sun. A bloodthirsty cheer went up as two opposing armies clashed together, steel biting steel and flesh. Anna stumbled back, eyes wide at the brutality, clutching onto the root of the great tree. She closed her eyes against the carnage, and when she opened them, the world had turned to ash. Crows picked at the bones of the bodies. A smog of smoke hugged the battlefield, the world burned. The root she clutched at crumbled in her hands and Anna turned to look at the blackened husk that was once Yggdrasil.

"W-what happened here?" Anna managed to ask Ada, who stood impassively by the side of her.

"In the confusion of Ragnarok, Freyja's mirror was lost from Folkvang and fell into mortal hands. Human beings fought wars over it. Shed blood, killed kin, all for the glimpse the mirror provided. And in bloodying the mirror, strengthened it with all the souls of the lost."

"Please," said Anna, squeezing her eyes closed tight against the horrible site of the battlefield. "I've seen enough."

"Very well."

Anna peeked open an eyes, and was relieved to see the bodies gone, replaced with the glittering surface of a lake, hedged by ancient woodland that sprawled over the valley.

"Eventually the surviving members of the Vanir-Aesir war realised what was happening the mortal world, and what Freyja's mirror had done. When they saw what had happened to Yggdrasil, they sought to seal its power away forever."

Several figures stood by the lakeside. Among them Anna recognised from her story books the winged helm of Odin, and one of the Jötunn, the frost giantess Skadi, towering above the other men. By their feet the Mirror was laid, wrapped with chains of ivory and bone.

"Odin, this is my property!" shouted Freyja, bristling with anger. "I will seal it away from mortal hands. But I beseech you, do not take my brother away from me."

Odin replied kindly, but firmly: "Freyja, I do this for your sake as well as for those of the mortal lands. Some things are not meant to be. You linger on what cannot be, and have stopped seeing what is."

Freyja stormed away, and the other gods continued binding the Mirror, before Skadi heaved it up and threw it far into the lake, burying it to sleep among the silt forever.

"But it didn't," said Anna, looking to her companion. "Queen Matilda must have dredged the lake."

"She pieced together clues about the Mirror and its disappearance in history, using the remaining fragments of poems and myths," Ada said. When Anna looked back from her, the idyllic lakeside scene had changed. It was recognisably the same place, though a village now nestled on the valleyside. And, the water was gone from lake. The sun set above mounds of chalky soil, piled around the pit, the water siphoned into a another lake dug beside the original.

"Your Majesty, please, this way," said the foreman. He was guiding Queen Matilda down into the lake-bed using hastily erected wooden gang-walks. Her hair was still grey, but her back was no longer bent. Her walk was steadier. Her eyes shone bright with eagerness and impatience. "Let me help you, your Majesty. Your dress—"

"My dress will survive some mud," the Queen snapped, ignoring the foreman's offered hand and taking a long stride over the space between two muddy pieces of gang-walk. Anna and Ada followed them down into the lake bed, sticky with algae and smelling of pond-scum. "Now show me what you've found."

The foreman guided her to where two excavators were crouched at work. "Yes, yes. This is it. It's exactly as Tonnessen's journal describes," said the Queen, voice jubilant. The two men were hard at work with brushes and trowels, clearing away the centuries of mulch and silt from the clouded surface of the Mirror.

"It's very strange, your Majesty," said the foreman. "The chains seem to be made of ivory. And bone."

"Cut them away immediately," the Queen commanded. A bolt cutter was fetched, the chains cut away. As soon as the link was severed, the chains fell into dust. The surface of the Mirror begun to shimmer, shining beneath the mud and imperfections. The men backed away, but the Queen stepped forward.

She peered into the depths of the glass and her mouth tightened. Her eyes filled with tears and she gasped, "Cecilia." Her palms went to the glass, as though she could crawl inside. Tears ran down her wrinkled face, and splashed onto the Mirror.

The moment the teardrop hit the surface, the Mirror began to hum. It hummed like the sound of a glass struck with a fork, increasing in pitch until Anna was forced to shove her hands over her ears. Even then, the noise tried to wriggle into her eardrums. The workers stumbled back, and the Queen shouted, "No!"

The Mirror had begun to crack. It split from the centre where the teardrop had fallen and cracked into hundreds of pieces. Still the sound intensified, Anna ramming her fingers into her ears. Only Ada, stood beside her, was disaffected, watching the scene with the air of someone viewing a play they've watched a dozen times over.

It wasn't over. The Mirror glowed white hot, the foreman grabbing the immobilised Queen and throwing them both back into the mud as it exploded. The shards were scattered in every direction, streaking through the sky like shooting stars, luminescent and brilliant.

The light was so bright it stung her eyes. Anna closed them, and when she dared next to take a peep, her mouth dropped open.

They were stood in her and Elsa's childhood bedroom. The midnight shadows were thrown long, a cool draft blowing. Anna looked to see where it was coming from, and found Elsa knelt in the window seat, the shutters flung open and elbows propped up on the windowsill. She was no more than three or four, wiggling her toes under her blue nightgown, hair spilling out of its loose braid. Her eyes were wide with wonder, reflecting the streaking lights of a meteor shower, the night sky bright with hundreds of seeming shooting stars.

Elsa spoke breathlessly, trying—and failing— to keep up with the streak of stars. "—And I wish we can go to the seaside this year. And I wish I could get a new doll. And that Anna could hurry up and grow up so she can play with me. And—" Elsa gasped as a bright star blazed past the castle, and fell down somewhere in the courtyard below, past the pond.

"It fell! The shooting star! It fell in our garden!" Elsa shouted in excitement, whipping round as though she wished she could tell someone. Her eyes passed over Anna without seeing her. Elsa stood on the cushioned window seat, craning out for a closer look. When she still couldn't see the star, she clambered up onto the windowsill, teetering.

Although she knew it was only a memory, Anna still screamed as Elsa overbalanced, seemed to right herself for a moment, and then slipped from the window.

The word was ripped deep from her chest: " _Elsa_!"

Anna's hands slammed against the windowsill, but she'd heard it: a sickening _crunch_. Her eyes were wide as she stared down at the shadowed garden, illuminated by the flickering light of the meteor shower. Elsa's tiny body laid on the grass, unmoving, a puddle of something dark pooling by her head.

_No… this isn't possible. Ada said this is supposed to be a memory, so how…?_

Anna stood in darkness. An eternal darkness. Their bedroom was gone. She couldn't even see her hands in front of her. It wasn't a blackness, because the dark wasn't a colour. It was the absence of colour. An absence of everything.

Elsa sat in that absence, wrapped into a ball, hands curled around her knees. She was sobbing softly. Her cries did not echo. Instead, they were swallowed by the darkness.

**Why are you crying?**

Elsa looked up when she heard the voice. A strange voice, resonating with the timbre of many. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and asked, "Who's there?"

 **Why are you crying?** said the voice once again.

"I'm s-scared," Elsa sniffled. "I'm lonely. I don't want to die."

The voice asked, **Why?**

"When Ivar, Mr Coates's dog died, he went away and I never saw him again. I don't want to go away. I want to see Mama and Papa again. I want to play with my new sister."

 **Why?** Asked the voice.

"Why? Because if I went away, I'd miss them."

**Miss them?**

"Don't… you have a Mama or a Papa?" Elsa asked.

**No.**

"Or a sister?"

**No.**

"What about friends?"

**No.**

"Oh… that must feel lonely."

**What is 'lonely?'**

"It's when… when you feel sad. Because there's nobody around to play with."

 **When you feel sad…** repeated the voice.

"I can be your friend, if you like. Maybe being dead won't be so bad, then. Um. Are— are you an angel?"

**What if you could not be dead? If you could go back? Would that make you less sad?**

Elsa clasped her small hands together. "Yes! I could see Anna again. And tell Mama and Papa about the shooting stars. Even though they'll be angry at me. It's my fault for playing by the window after they told me not to…"

Light pierced the darkness. A shard from the Mirror streaked through the dark, bright enough to scar the image into the back of her retinas. Elsa stood and raised her hands, and she caught the shooting star as it fell. Bright as a miniature star, she cupped it between her tiny hands, eyes reflecting electric sparks.

**Make a contract with me.**

"A contract?" Elsa asked.

 **Make another wish,** the voice said. **Let me be your heart. Let me experience happiness, sadness, loneliness. This time, for myself.**

* * *

**To be continued.**


	33. the sun, the moon

The darkness vanished. Anna stood, blinking, beside Ada. They were back in her and Elsa's bedroom. She'd watched as Elsa made her wish, and then as she'd taken the blazing shard inside of her, into her heart.

Anna approached the bed, where she'd seen something stir. It was Elsa. The meteor storm continued outside the window, but the window was bolted closed. Elsa slept peacefully in her bed, as though nothing had happened. Her hands were curled tightly around her heart.

"You saw," said Ada. It wasn't a question. The girl stood by her side, watching Elsa as she slept.

"Your voice…. It's the same. You said these were your memories, didn't you? You're… the Mirror."

Ada nodded.

"You saved my sister's life," said Anna. "Why?"

"I'd spent the past thousand years reflecting the emotions of other people… I suppose, I wanted to feel them for myself."

"Was it you who gave Elsa her powers?"

"A side effect I hadn't intended on. There was too much magic in such a small body… it ended up manifesting itself in ways even I couldn't have imagined. When she got emotional, it became harder to control. But there are rarely gifts without curses."

Anna watched as Elsa slept. She seemed unharmed. She even wore a small smile as she slept.

"There's still something I don't understand, though," Anna said. "If you're the Mirror… how can you be Ada? You said earlier that part of you was _known_ as Ada. That makes it sound like it's not your real name."

"Because it's not," she said. "Ada was the name Queen Matilda gave that part of me, after she had me abducted from my home."

Hooves beat against cobblestones, a woman warbling as she hung out her washing. The sun was shining and Anna's eyes widened as she realised where they were. She'd thought Ada would whisk her away to some part of the Valleylands now, but they were stood outside a quaint townhouse, in Arendelle. In fact, they were a few doors down from Kristoff's house.

A small party approached the house. Three men in armour, their tunics embossed with the rosebush insignia, drawing attention from nosy neighbours who poked their noses over fences and housewives who paused peeling their potatoes. The knights were escorting an old woman with a shawl covering her hair, and a striking, tall dark-skinned man in a sharp suit. The man rapped at the door, and a woman with a baby tucked in her arms answered.

"When Odin's enchantment was triggered and I was broken into so many pieces, something was lost. My reflection, or shadow… my essence, is probably the best way to put it. The thing a mortal being might call a soul," Ada said. "But Freyja unknowingly imbued me with her own immortality, and that part of me was reborn. In a child living in Arendelle, the daughter of a man called Schmidt."

"Schmidt!" Anna exclaimed. "You don't mean—" before she could continue, Schmidt himself appeared at the door beside his wife. Younger, with dark hair instead of grey, but the very same: Commodore Schmidt, Admiral Westergard's protege who'd barred their passage into the Spring City. The man who had inexplicably left the wife he loved and sailed for the Valleylands, seventeen years ago.

"Your Majesty. This— this is an honour." Schmidt quickly removed his hat and made way for them, his wife colouring. "Please, come in. This is my wife, Ingrit." Queen Matilda lowered her shawl as she stepped through the threshold, followed by Khublan and the guards. There was a rush as the fine china was dug from the back of the cupboard and the housekeeper spilt tea over the floral tablecloth.

"I'm sorry it's not much," Ingrit said, cheeks pink as she helped dab up the spilt tea. "We weren't expecting company, especially not…"

"Nonsense. I was just thinking this little cottage is quite charming," said the Queen.

Ingrit flushed with pleasure and mumbled something about being honoured. Both she and her husband looked rather dazed, and puzzled as to why the Queen of the Spring City had decided out of the blue to visit their home.

"What a beautiful baby," the Queen said, peering over at the baby swaddled in Ingrit's arms. "What's her name?"

"Elsinore, your Majesty. Named after our crown princess."

"May I hold her?"

"Oh! Of course."

Ingrit handed the Queen baby Elsinore. She'd been sleeping, but now she opened her eyes blearily, peering up at the stranger who held her.

The Queen's voice cracked. "Holding her… it reminds me so much of my firstborn. She… she looks so much like her."

"I didn't realise you had a daughter, your Majesty," Ingrit said with interest.

"She died of typhoid when she was just a child. Her name was Cecilia," the Queen said, lips tightening.

"Oh, I'm… I'm sorry," said Ingrit. "I lost my first, too, so I understand. It's a terrible thing." The Queen said nothing more, stroking Elsinore's soft wisps of hair, and Ingrit continued: "The other women I know who've had children, they tell me she reminds me of their own when they were babies. I don't know what it is."

Khublan, opposite her, sipped his tea silently.

More pleasantries were exchanged, and Anna saw how Ingrit and her husband were finding it harder and harder to cover up the perplexity they felt at the situation as Queen Matilda enquired after their family as though she dropped in for tea every week.

At last, Queen Matilda cut to the point. "Mr Schmidt, I've heard wonderful things about you. I've been told you're in line for the admiral-ship here in Arendelle."

"You flatter me, your Majesty."

"I'm not here to flatter you. I'm here to offer you a job. I'm in need of a commodore and I believe you're the right man for the job. I don't imagine King Adgar will give you a better offer than that."

Ingrit's hands flew to cover her mouth. "Alf, a commodore-ship…!"

She and her husband looked at one another. Then Schmidt steadied his jaw and said, "I'm deeply honoured, your Majesty, but I fear I must decline. It might be possible in a few years time, but Ingrit's mother is ill. Now is… not a good time."

"I… see," said the Queen, unsmiling as she set down her cup.

"I hope we haven't offended you," said Ingrit.

"No, of course not," the Queen said, twitching up a small smile. Schmidt and Ingrit visibly relaxed. "Mothers are important. And the last thing I'd want is to split up this lovely family." She beamed at baby Elsinore, who gurgled. "Please though, keep it in mind." She stood, smoothing down the wrinkles in her skirt, and nodded at Khublan, who through the whole discussion had not said a word. He set his cup down heavily.

The scene flickered, and when it returned twilight was strung over the parlour room. The fine china had been cleared away. Ingrit sat the table alone, crying. Ada approached from behind, putting a hand on her mother's shoulder. She couldn't feel it.

There was a tight stopper in Anna's throat. "They changed your father's memories, like they did with Elsa. They made him forget about his wife," she realised, "so he'd bring you to the Spring City."

"And then Khublan made him forget all about me, too," Ada said. Anna started when she heard her voice: it wasn't the impassive voice of the Mirror, but the voice of a young girl, her hard shell cracked open with emotion. She swung round, knuckles white, face streaked with tears. "My mother died, thinking he'd left her! She died before I ever got to know her. Because that woman stole her from me!"

Dust lined the immaculate parlour room. Ingrit vanished like the reverse exposure of a photograph in a darkened room.

"Ada…"

"She even stole my name from me. And she made me feel grateful for it. She wrote me a new history so I'd be eternally loyal to her, to make me into her tool. After a thousand years, I was finally alive, and she made me into a thing again."

The tears that rolled down Ada's cheeks were liquid metal, like liquid mercury. Anna reached out across the expanse between them to offer a comforting touch, but by the time her fingers touched her Ada was gone, replaced by the cool dispassion of the Mirror.

The parlour room was gone too, and Anna found herself back in the familiar subterranean chamber in the Spring City. There was the Mirror, its surface shimmering like oil on water. But instead of Elsa, it was Ada who looked back at her now. "At first, she was content to use our powers to create a perfect world for herself. A city where it was always spring, to recreate the spring days she'd spent with Cecilia before she fell ill. Shut away from the rest of the world, with me as her daughter. But when she hit upon a text describing other rumoured abilities of the Mirror, she begun to imagine what it would be like if she had the whole thing and not just a piece of it. The text described what she sought after as _Urðarbrunni_. Eternity. She believed that if she could control my power, she would be able to bring Cecilia back from the dead."

Anna took a sharp intake of breath. "But surely that's im—" but as she spoke, she saw again Elsa sleeping peacefully in bed, after smashing her skull. Elsa had died. But Ada had brought her back.

"What Freyja saw inside me was not Freyr, but Freyr as he could have been. Or rather, the Mirror provides a glimpse into another world, one where her brother had not died, and still lived."

"Another _world_?"

"The world we exist in— this world— isn't the only world," Ada said. "There are millions—tens of millions— of universes, and I can see them all. Like an onion with a limitless number of layers."

Anna tried to imagine this, and stopped when her brain started hurting.

Ada tried again: "Every time someone makes a decision, another universe is created where they did _not_ make that decision. For example, there is another universe where your sister declined to have her future read by me where I never blackmailed her, and neither of you came to the Spring City in the first place."

Anna was sure her eyes must be bulging out of her head. "So in this other place, there's another Elsa? And another me?"

"There's another Princess Anna of Arendelle, though she's not exactly _you_. She's the you you could have been, but aren't. Just like there is another Anna who married Prince Hans, and another Anna who was named Ellen, because your mother married another man instead of the King of Arendelle. And there are plenty of universes where there is no Anna or Ellen at all, because the correct circumstances weren't aligned for your birth."

It was mind boggling. As Ada spoke, glimpses of these other Annas appeared in the surface of the Mirror. She clamped her hand over her mouth as she saw herself in black, Hans' hand draped proprietorially over her shoulder, stood in front of her parents gravestones, where in the middle, there now stood a third.

Then the vision changed, and she saw a girl who was unmistakably her, but not _her_ , an Anna who was called Ellen with brown hair, in the room of a manor house she'd never seen before. The Mirror kept flashing, showing her all the other Annas she might've, could've but hadn't been. When the visions finally fled, Ada reappeared.

"With Ada's help, Queen Matilda put me back together, but she also bound me to her will. She recovered the spell of binding Odin used to seal me away, and she's using it to exert her will over the many worlds," said Ada.

"Why?" said Anna.

"To compress the many universes together. To create one united universe where ideal choices can be picked and chosen. Urðarbrunni. A world where all those you've lost live again, and you made the choices you always regretted not taking. A world where Queen Matilda has her daughter back."

The surface of the Mirror flickered, and Anna watched as Queen Matilda sat in a sunlit garden, brushing the hair of a little girl. Anna saw the Queen's peaceful expression, and she said quite slowly: "She… she did all of this… because she wanted her daughter back?"

Somehow, she'd always assumed it was much more malevolent than that. But Matilda had hurt and lied and schemed because… she loved her daughter?

"So that's why Khublan and the others all helped her, isn't it? They wanted this eternal world, too."

"They did. They all had something they desperately wanted, that they were willing to give up anything to get it," Ada said. Too quickly to grasp their meanings, the Mirror flashed again. To Khublan, with a woman and a small child with his eyes, in another country, far away. To Angus, sat around a roaring hearth with his family. Ilia, rowing out on a boat with a woman that could only be her twin sister.

Anna had begun to wonder: what would this eternal world be like, for her? In that place, would she and Elsa be able to live happily? In that world, would Hans never have tricked her? Would their parents still be alive? Would Kristoff and her still be able to be friends? The idea sung to Anna like a voice trapped in a sea shell, drawing her sweetly. The images in the Mirror all had something in common: everybody in them were all so happy.

Everyone, apart from Ada, who appeared again in the Mirror, eyes sunken and sad.

Ada, who'd been trapped in eternal slavery by a woman who had used her love against her. Just has Hans had done. Who was now bound to watch over this new eternal world, without even getting the chance to take a piece of it. Trapped behind a plate of glass, unfeeling, forever.

Although the seashell sung sweetly, Anna tore herself away from it. Her knuckles tightened as she said, words ringing with conviction: "This isn't right. What can we do? Is there any way to break Queen Matilda's spell?"

The facade of the Mirror's cracked, and Ada looked at her from out of the glass, her sedate expression split open with shock.

"You… you would do that?" she asked.

"That's why you kept me back here and told me all this, isn't it?" Anna said.

"Yes," Ada admitted. "I just never expected you would agree. After everything I've done… I thought you would hate me. I would deserve it."

Anna shook her head. "I still can't pretend that I'm happy about what you did to Elsa. But nobody deserves what Queen Matilda did to you. And… when you told me you did everything you did for the Queen, it made me think." She stared down at the white knuckle bones of her hands. "It made me wonder. What would I have done, if it was Elsa who begun acting strangely. If I would have done the things you did, for her. I thought about it, and… I think I would have done the same as you. Perhaps not exactly the same, but… back when Elsa froze the fjord and there were people saying she was a monster, I didn't believe it for a second. Even when she froze my heart, I never stopped believing in her. I knew if I could just _talk_ to her, I could bring her home. I… I still believe that."

"But I never walked up a mountain for the Queen. I never did anything as courageous as you, Anna. I'm… weak. Even when I looked into Elsa's heart, I was jealous about your relationship. I was angry at Elsa, because she had someone like you, who loved her unconditionally, and she was still ready to throw it all away. When she ignored my warnings, I even thought that she deserved what happened to her."

"Elsa is… a stubborn sort of person," said Anna, with a small smile. "Heh. Kind of like me, I guess. She wanted to protect me, and that was the best way she could think of. I mean, she was wrong, but…" Her smile faded. "Whatever we do, we seem to keep missing one another somehow. Like… the sun and the moon, one rising as the other sets. Or something. Uh, sorry. That's cheesy. I've… never been great at metaphors." She blushed, pulling at a loose portion of her hair that had fallen from the bun, tugging it out even further.

Ada smiled, a little. "Cheesy… but sort of accurate."

They smiled uneasily at one another, and Anna asked, "So, if we're agreed, what do we do next? Is there something we _can_ do?"

"There is. I've been thinking it over, and there's only one way I can come up with."

"What is it?" asked Anna.

"Break me. Smash the Mirror. Smash it into so many pieces that it can never be put back together again."

"But if I do that… what will happen to you?"

Ada hoisted a tight smile. "I'll be fine. I can't die. I won't be Ada anymore but… perhaps I'll be born somewhere else, as someone else."

Anna pushed her hands together. "And… you're okay with that? Not being _you_ , anymore."

"Ada is no more than a fiction, written by the Queen."

"But… what about being Elsinore?" Anna asked. "Elsinore, the daughter of Alf and Ingrit."

Ada's face clouded over. "I don't know what it's like to be Elsinore… I never got a chance to be her. And now, I never will. I would have liked to have met my father. Add that to my list of regrets…"

Anna's heart twisted in her chest. "This… this never should have happened," she said. "You've hardly had a chance to live. It's not fair."

"I've been told life rarely is. But all the same… I enjoyed being a part of Elsa. Her love for you is incredible. I only wish… I could have felt something like that for someone, at least once."

Anna's hands went to her heart. "You… don't think it's wrong? We— we are sisters."

"No," said Ada. "I might be biased, having been a part of Elsa's heart for so long, but no, I don't think it's wrong. After everything you've been through: estrangement; the threat of death; magic… you're still fighting for one another, in your own ways. Even if you keep passing one another by. I think that's the opposite of wrong. And I do hope that one day, you'll meet."

Anna bit her lip, tight enough it hurt. "So how do you break a magic mirror? I'm guessing that it'd be too easy that I could just hit it with something."

_If it's seven years bad luck for an ordinary mirror, what do you get when you break an enchanted one?_

"You guessed right. But although the Mirror's complete, it's not perfect. There are fractures, and they've created faults. Perhaps if…"

"If?" Anna encouraged her.

"If you could find one of the fault lines, you could break it."

Anna studied the surface of the Mirror. It seemed flawless. "I can't see any cracks…"

"The scars are inside," said Ada, "like most things."

"Inside? But I can't—" Anna suddenly remembered that this was a magic mirror. "I can go inside?"

Ada nodded. "And I think I know one of the places you're most likely to find a fissure. The place where part of the Mirror resided for so long. Elsa's heart."

She was about to open her mouth again, before she remembered. Magic mirror. _Right_.

"You have the power to do that? Let someone into another's heart?"

"It's something I've always been able to do. It's how I learnt secrets for Queen Matilda. Now that I've rejoined the Mirror my power has been amplified exponentially. It should be easy be to guide you inside. The fissure might not _look_ like a fissure, mind you. But it'll be something that sticks out, a fault that's crept in through the cracks."

"Right," said Anna, to try and gee herself up. At the thought of stepping through the Mirror, she suddenly felt nervous. "Right! I go inside Elsa's heart, find this fault thingamabob, give it a good old whack, and Elsa and I will be back in Arendelle for tea. Easy!" Still, her fingers flexed anxiously. She was still talking. "I'm so ready. There's never been anyone readier."

"And I'll understand, if you change your mind," Ada said soberly.

"—I'm the readiest that ever— huh? About what?"

"If you decided to stay in the compressed universe. I just wanted to say that I wouldn't blame you at all. It's your decision."

Anna shook her head. "Why would I do something like that?"

Ada squeezed her mouth into a tight line. "Well, you'll see. I just wanted you to know. Thank you, Anna. For everything. I wish I could have grown up in Arendelle. I'd like to think we might even have been friends."

Her words sounded startlingly _final_ , and Anna hesitated. She relaxed into a smile. "I… would have liked that."

"Despite everything that's happened, I'm happy that at least one person got to see me. The real me. And I'm glad that person was you, Anna."

"Me too, Ada."

"Goodbye, Anna. Take care of Elsa."

"I always do," said Anna, before she straightened up in determination. "I better get going then," she said, squaring her shoulders. "I'm off," she said, again. "Bye." Frog marching forward, Anna squeezed her eyes tightly closed as she stepped through the Mirror, the glass parting for her like a curtain of water.

* * *

**To be continued.**


	34. the key to her heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In order to break the Mirror and stop Queen Matilda’s vision of the future from becoming a reality, Anna ventures into Elsa’s heart, searching for a fracture. But things aren't always as they appear. The heart is a maze not all can escape from.

The frost fair came to Arendelle once, when Anna was a young child. The winter that year was so severe that for the first time in living memory the fjord froze over. A great fair was erected there. That was when the gates were still open, and her father had carried Anna on his shoulders through the fair. She and Elsa ate jellied eels and candied apples and lost at skittles.

Having passed through the Mirror, that was the sight that greeted Anna: the frost fair of her childhood.

A sea of striped tents stretched across the ice. The sound of laughter, calliope from the organ, jugglers performing tricks, stallholders shouting. The smell of roasted chicken and sickly sweet sugar tickled nostalgically at her nose and her heart clenched, painfully, as she was dragged back to that day.

If what Ada said was right, this was Elsa's heart, and therefore… _this is one of her memories?_

Except there seemed something _off_ about it.

_There's… no people._

Calliope sung sweetly and children laughed but there were no children, no winder to wind the organ. The breeze moved the debris of the fair, napkins littering the ground and a forgotten silk shawl, stirring ghostly, and the little boy's laughter in the distance took on an eerie tone.

"Roll up! Roll up! Get your tickets here!"

The call came from a ticket booth, a small erect tent the size of a _Punch and Judy_ show. Anna approached curiously, fully expecting to see no-one, and so was surprised when she looked down and saw a tiny little baby snowman, dwarfed by the chair he was sat in.

"Oh!" she said in delight. "Are you one of Elsa's snow creatures?"

"Do you want a ticket or not, lady?" the snowgie squeaked, perusing slowly through a huge novel with tiny little arms.

"A ticket for what?"

"For the tour," said the snowgie. He sounded quite bored.

"What kind of tour?" asked Anna.

Boredly, from rote, the snowgie repeated, "'A Frozen Heart.' A mesmerising and intriguing trip through the heart of Queen Elsa, Queen of Arendelle."

Anna blinked, and then made the decision that it would be best just to roll with it. "Yes please, then. One ticket."

"One second," said the snowgie. "Lemme check the list." He scrabbled with his little arms for a heavy guest-book and scanned through it. "What's your name?"

"Princess Anna."

The snowgie scanned through the book, flipping over a few pages, and said, "Sorry lady. You ain't on the list. I'm afraid this is a very exclusive tour."

"No way!" said Anna, leaning over the ticket booth. Just as the snowgie had said, her name wasn't on the list. But, nor was anybody else's.

"Hey!" she said. "That guest-list is empty!"

"Like I said— it's a very exclusive tour."

"What on earth is the point of running a tour if you don't let anybody on it?" Anna huffed.

But then the snowgie found the memo tucked in between the pages. He exclaimed, "Well, well well! Isn't it your lucky day? I've got a note from the boss; you've been made a VIP visitor. Our first ever, actually."

"The first VIP?"

"The first visitor," said the snowgie, handing her over a badge to pin to her apron. It read:

**Princess Anna of Arendelle**

**VIP**

"The boss you mention… that's Elsa, right? Do you know where I can find her? It's very important." She had no doubt that once she found Elsa, this fault in the Mirror— whatever it was— was sure to be nearby.

But the snowgie just waved her towards a blue and silver striped tent. "The tour guide is waiting for you inside. Don't keep him waiting." He went back to his brick of a novel, completely ignoring her.

 _How rude_ , Anna thought. But perhaps the tour guide would be more helpful.

She parted the entrance to the tent and went inside.

But she found no tour guide waiting for her.

Instead, she found a child's den built under a fort of blankets. The closer Anna got, the more familiar it looked, until she noticed the blue blanket, sewn with tiny stars, and gasped and snatched it up, exclaiming, "Hey! That's my old blanket!"

Revealed inside the den was a magpie's hoard. Except, if the magpie had gone out collecting toys instead of shiny things.

"My bear!" said Anna, adding it to the growing pile in her arms. "And those are Elsa's blocks. And hey, that's my doll—" But as she pulled at her old Princess Elsa doll (her sister owned the counterpart) she found it wouldn't come free. Anna pulled harder, bracing her legs back. It seemed to be attached to some stick thing.

With one last heave, Anna pulled, and the doll came free. Along with the thing attached to it. Anna hit the floor. She stared at the striped roof of the tent, winded. Something heavy was lying on her chest. Something cold.

Anna pushed herself up on her hands to see…

"Olaf!" she exclaimed. The little snowman was fast asleep on her, still stubbornly holding on to her doll. He'd apparently fallen asleep under the pile of toys. Anna shook him. "Olaf, wake up!"

Olaf jerked awake with a snort. Eyes widened with joy and recognition. "Heee—ey, Anna! What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Olaf! Not that I'm not glad to see you— because I really, really am. But, what are you doing here? And what are you doing with all that stuff?"

"I live here!" Olaf said, beaming. And he gasped, covering his mouth with his stick hands. "How rude of me not to invite you in." And with that he climbed off Anna and waddled inside the blanket fort. "Please, come in. Come in!" he called jovially from inside.

This was going to be a tight squeeze. Shrugging, Anna crawled into the fort on her hands and knees, hoping to find somewhere at least to sit.

"Huh," she said.

"Welcome to my house, the Childhood Imagination Room," Olaf sung, stretching his hands to the huge space around them. She'd barely fit through the gap in the blanket fort, but now she stood with several foot to spare. They were in a child's wonderland. There were mountains of pillows and toys and a swing that hung from a ceiling. There were all sorts of toys and nick-knacks from her and Elsa's childhood that she hadn't seen in years. The wooden toy boat Kai built for them. The pull-along goose. Anna couldn't help but beam as she ran her fingers along the china doll she'd adopted as a little girl. She hadn't thought of her in so long.

"This is amazing, Olaf!" Anna could feel the huge grin straining at her dimpled cheeks.

"If you like this, you'll love what what we've got planned next. You haven't seen anything yet!" Olaf said, literally bouncing from excitement. "I haven't been able to give a tour in, gee, I guess _ever._ I've got so much to show you."

"You're the tour guide?"

"Yep!" Olaf said, puffing up his chest like a proud penguin. There it was, pinned to his puffed chest: a brass badge engraved with the words:

**OLAF**

**snowman/ tour guide**

"I know all about Elsa. She made me, you know?" Olaf confided, bubbling under the surface like a kettle on the boil, bursting with pride and excitement.

"I know," said Anna, smiling. He seemed so pleased with himself.

"Let's get the tour started!" Olaf said, tugging at her arm. "Or we'll be late!"

* * *

The door from the Childhood Imagination Room led out into Elsa's ice palace. They stood in a long, icy corridor, lit by lights from overhead chandeliers that refracted all over the place in a prismatic rainbow.

"Where are we?" said Anna.

"Elsa's subconscious," said Olaf, the way anyone else might say, 'the sitting room.'

The corridor was lined with dozens of doors, each of them labelled with a child's young, wobbly handwriting. Anna scanned them as they walked past. She saw 'The Repressed Memory of the Ice Cream Incident Room', 'Smells Familiar Room', 'That Thing That Lived Under Bed Room,' and the 'Books I Forgot to Read Room.'

As they walked together, Olaf provided an excitable, leaping, bouncing, gambolling commentary.

"And that's where we keep all our smells. All the nice stuff like freshly cut grass, and oooh, chocolate. And all the not-so nice stuff, like that mildew smell that gets into the west wing when it rains. Nuh- _uh_. And—"

"What exactly is the point of all of this?" Anna asked. She couldn't figure out why on earth Elsa needed rooms in her heart like _paper airplane ideas_ or _the sound toast makes when you scrape the burnt bits off_.

"There isn't so much as a point, per say," Olaf said with a cheerful shrug. "It just _is_. We're on the periphery of Elsa's heart, so these are just old memories and feelings she doesn't think about much. When they're forgotten, the renovations crew comes and sorts through them and chucks the old stuff out to make way for new memories."

"The renovations crew? You're not the only person here, Olaf?" Anna asked.

"Course not! With a heart as large as Elsa's, we need a whole contingent of staff to keep everything running properly. And this is just the _outer_ part. All of Elsa's important memories are further in."

 _Further in_. That had to be where the fracture was.

"Is that included on the tour too, Olaf?" Anna asked.

"Ahh, well actually, it's uhm, closed for renovations right now. They're, ur, putting in some new mood lighting."

Anna narrowed her eyes at Olaf. He was shuffling his foot in a very _nervous_ manner. "Mood lighting?" she asked, arching one eyebrow.

Olaf, Anna thought, looked very much like a small child caught doing something wrong. "Ur…"

"Olaf, come on."

Taking a deep breath, Olaf said, far too quickly for Anna to catch anything, "Elsakindofmighthavelockedtheheartdooranditkindofmightbeallmyfault."

"Say that again."

This time Olaf mumbled so fast Anna only made out the words _Elsa_ and a high-pitched squeak.

She held back a sigh. Hands on her hips, Anna pulled on her best Elsa-like royal voice. "Olaf, I command you to stop mumbling and tell me what on earth is going on this instant."

Olaf only hesitated a few more seconds, before the dam broke, and he bewailed, "I'm sorry, Anna. It's all my fau—ult!"

Well, apparently that hadn't been the best approach. She knelt down beside Olaf, ignoring the cold of the ice floor clambering through the material of her skirts and petticoats and put her arm around the snowman. "Please calm down, Olaf. Whatever it is, I'm sure it'll be alright."

"But Anna, you don't even know what I've do—ooone," Olaf moaned, covering his eyes with the twigs that served as his hands.

"Whatever it is, Olaf, I'll help you fix it," Anna promised him, rubbing slow circles on his back.

He shifted one twiggy hand to peek out at her. "You will, Anna?"

"Of course I will. We're friends, aren't we? So we help one another."

Somewhat consoled, Olaf moved his hands from his face, and prodded two twig-ends together nervously. "I might not have been telling _completely_ , 100% the truth when I said you were the first visitor," he said in a low, breathless, wide, guilty-eyed confession.

"Someone else was here?"

"She didn't have a badge, but she seemed so interested, and I'd always really, really wanted to be a tour guide, so…" he prodded his twigs together again.

Anna was starting to figure out where this was going. "Her name wasn't Ada… was it?"

"Oh, heeeeey, that was her!" he said, the lightning flash of excitement quickly slipping behind overcast clouds. "Um. So I might have given her a tour. And maybe shown her Elsa's memories. And maybe given away her secrets. Maybe. By accident!" he swiftly clarified.

Well. That certainly explained how Ada had been able to blackmail her sister, didn't it?

But she couldn't bring herself to blame Olaf. He was as trusting and innocent as a child. In a way, he _was_ trust and innocence- Elsa's trust and innocence crystallised into a living creature. "It's not your fault, Olaf. You were tricked. I know you would never mean Elsa any harm."

But Olaf was still awkwardly prodding his fingers together. "You've not heard the worst of it. When Elsa heard what happened she was furious. She blew a huge snowstorm, like, _whoooosh_! And she blew the gates closed."

"The gates?" Now _that_ sounded familiar.

"The gates to her inner heart. And they've hardly been open for six months…"

 _Six months…_ "You mean since Arendelle was thawed?" Anna asked.

"Yes! And it'd been so nice. We'd all been together, laughing, playing, with all the doors thrown open wide… until…" Olaf hiccoughed, "until I went and ruined it!" He'd gained some measure of composure up until now, but now he dissolved back into tears. Anna's hand went back to rubbing circles.

"Come on now, Olaf. You'll turn into a puddle if you keep crying like that," she admonished him. "I told you I'd help you, didn't I? We'll find a way to open the gate, and then you can apologise to Elsa and everything will be fine."

Olaf sniffed, loudly. "Okay, Anna."

"I'm going to need your help though. This is your world, not mine. Now, I bet you know _everything_ about this place, especially since you're a tour guide…"

Olaf chucked wetly, and with an air waved this away. "Aw, I don't know about _everything_ …though…"

"Though?" Anna prompted him.

"Well, I do know of somebody who could help us get further inside. But…" he faltered.

"But what?"

"But Elsa locked _her_ away long ago. Nobody has seen her in years. Said she couldn't stand the sight of her and shut her away in the maze." When Anna asked, _what maze_ , he expanded, "The maze in the frost fair."

An old memory bobbed up to the surface like a bottom-feeder drifting up to nibble at a crumb. The house of mirrors at the frost fair. How she and Elsa had got so lost in it, laughing at the distorted reflections of themselves, smacking into panes of mirror-glass, laughing, hands joined like a string.

And then Anna emerged from the memory and she was running, dragging Olaf behind her by the arm like her pull-along goose. Back down the corridor; through Olaf's room; back into the starry night and the calliope and hissing gas lights of the frost fair.

The sign above the tent read, The _Castle of Illusions._

Inside, they'd become separated. Had bounced off the glass, laughing. " _Anna, I can't get to you~"_ The memory was so vivid, it was almost like she could hear Elsa's voice in her head.

Anna parted the tent flaps and strode with purpose into an antechamber lined with mirrors reflecting back comical distorted images. The maze was ahead.

"An~na, wait, slow down!" she heard Elsa laugh, and it wasn't as though she could almost hear Elsa. She really _could_ hear her.

"Elsa?" she shouted.

Olaf's hand closed round her wrist. "Anna, it's dangerous in there," he said, in wide-eyed fear. "Once you go in, you might not ever find your way out."

Gently and patiently, Anna pulled Olaf's hand away and clasped it. "Wait here for me. Okay, Olaf?"

"O-okay. But be careful."

Anna strode into the maze. Countless Annas stared back at her. Reflections of reflections of reflections.

She froze, however, when she noticed that not all of them were the same.

There she was, confused eyes regarding herself, the shadow of the bruise the brutish guard had given her pickling yellowish under her eye socket, hair unwinding from its bun, a thread from her apron coming loose and run in her stockings.

And yet, there she was again, in her winter dress and cloak, determined eyes boring back into her own. And again, in the gown she'd worn to her sister's coronation, eyes wide with hurt. The echo of it ghosting against her eardrum: " _What did I ever do to you…?"_ Grinning in her nightgown. Smiling in her favourite summer dress.

Disorientated and stumbling, Anna spun round to find her fifteen year old eyes gazing back at her, brimming with tears. In black. Dressed for mourning. " _We only have each other, just you and me."_

"An~na, An~na, come and catch me~" her sister's voice sung.

She caught it out of the corner of her eye: little Elsa, skipping out of sight. Anna swung round, coming face to face with herself, five years old, offering up a baleful look. " _Elsa… why don't you want to play with me? Don't you like me anymore?"_

"Elsa!" Anna called. "Where are you?"

 _These must be memories of me,_ Anna thought. _Elsa's memories of me._

Intense eyes staring back through the slits of her antique butterfly mask. When she moved, her white-silver, gossamer dress danced around her like air. It was the outfit she'd worn to the masque ball, and yet Anna had never seen herself like this before. The dress had pinched, had clashed against her hair, and hadn't sat right on her shoulders and yet…

The creature that looked back at her with flashing, forest eyes, such a deep, deep green was divine. " _I want to meet you."_ She looked nothing at all like Anna, but…

_Because… this must be how Elsa sees me._

"Come on, Anna! Are you coming to get me or not?" Elsa called, vanishing.

Heart clenching brightly, painfully, Anna called out, "Where are you, Elsa?"

A giggle and, "I'm here!"

Anna extended her hands and started to walk, feeling her way forward so she couldn't hit the glass, face-first. "Where's here?"

"Not that way. This way!" Elsa called.

"This way?"

"No. That way!"

"Left?"

"Right."

"Right here?"

"No, silly. I meant you were going the right way!"

Annas behind Annas behind Annas.

How lonesome it must be to be trapped here, facing everyday only yourself and your own flaws.

She said, "Don't worry, I'm coming!"

When she turned left, the Anna in the mirror turned right. When she went right, the other Anna went left. Dizzying, disorientating, she kept going, even when there was no way of knowing where she was going. Just when she caught sight of half of Elsa in the mirror, she would head in that direction and lose her completely. She chased the flashing, mirage tail end of a blonde braid as it whipped by, and in her hurry smacked face-first into the glass with a crippling _whack_.

Right; left; left; left, right! Anna felt like she was chasing a vanishing, giggling illusion ("You're so slow, Elsa, come _on_!") and she swallowed down the warning Olaf had given her about being trapped forever. She would get to Elsa. She _had_ to.

And then Elsa was there, right in front of her. No more than eight years old, her hair French braided, in one of her favourite blue dresses, stretching out her arms to her. And Anna was hurrying forward, to snatch up her sister before she could vanish, and—

SMASH!

She hit the glass hard, and it shattered with a sudden violence. Bright, white lights resounded in her head. When she came to, she heard Elsa's voice: "Anna? Anna, you're bleeding. Are you okay?"

Though she'd hit the one pane, the entire complex of mirrors had smashed into smithereens. It lay on the floor in sharp tiny shards of glass. Like slivers of ice.

"I'm fine," said Anna, though it was hissed through her teeth. She touched her temple, and when her fingers came away they were spotted with inkblots of blood.

"Thank goodness," sighed Elsa. Except that—

Her voice was coming from the inside of a conch shell.

Anna pushed herself up off the floor, swallowing down sudden vertigo and nausea, and asked, "…Elsa?"

"I'm in here," said the voice from the shell. Anna thought it sounded a little embarrassed.

The conch shell sat on a child's wooden stool, one from Elsa's old room. Anna picked it up. It was white and very smooth. She peered into it and called, experimentally, "Uh, hello?"

When she put it to her ear, the voice that came back was louder, as though Elsa was standing right next to her. "Anna. You've no idea how glad I am you're here. Wow, you've gotten big."

"And you've… ur, gotten more… smaller," Anna said lamely. Out of curiosity, she gave the shell a shake, and there was a scraping sound like something large and wooden sliding, followed by a big _crash_. "Whoah, Anna, watch out for the furniture! I nearly got crushed by the wardrobe."

_W-wardrobe?!_

"Sorry!" she said. There was a heaving and scraping sound, presumably as Elsa righted the wardrobe. "How on earth did you get in there?"

"She—" the word was spat like poison, between pants of exertion, "—put me in here."

" _She_?"

A resigned sigh. "Oh, alright. _Me_. The me you know. The me from the future, but definitely not _me_ , because I'm nothing like that coward."

The resentment and vindictiveness in her kindhearted sister's voice startled her. It was a tone Elsa only used when she was talking about Hans, or occasionally people that wasted chocolate. "You don't sound like you like her… uh, I mean, _you_ , very much."

"That's because I don't. She put me in here. Locked me up and hid me away. Just like our parents did to us. When I get a hold of her, she's going to regret it."

Olaf ran towards them over the powdered glass, waving excitedly his little knobby sticks of arms. "Anna, you did it!" he gushed. "And Elsie! There's something about you that's different, though I can't put my finger on it… " he mused on this, finger to his chin. "New haircut…?"

"Olaf!" the voice in the conch exclaimed. "I was afraid she might have locked you away too."

He shuffled nervously. The kid whose hand was caught in the cookie jar look again. "I'm sorry, Elsie. I wanted to come find you, but the Queen forbade it."

Elsa humphed. "She _would_ ," she said, before adding quickly, "But it's not your fault, Olaf."

"Elsie—" the childhood endearment tripped off Anna's tongue effortlessly, "there's something that I need your help with. I need to get to the centre of this place. The problem is—"

"She's gone and locked the heartgate again, hasn't she?" Elsie sighed.

"Do you know if there's any way to open it?"

"I know a way. It's my heart too, after all."

"Then you'll help us?" Anna said.

"Of course! I need to see the Queen myself, anyway. It's about time we settled this." The resignation in her voice was a little worrying. It almost sounded like she was going to fight Elsa, though of course that was ridiculous—

A loud guttural rumble shook the earth, and the ground beneath their feet began to tremble. Carousel horses creaked and gas lamps wobbled.

"Uh-oh," whispered Olaf, hunched into himself, voice a frightened murmur. "She knows we've let you out of the maze."

Anna could laugh aloud at the absurdity of it all. They were frightened? Of Elsa?

"I'm not scared of her," Elsie announced proudly, though Anna detected a slight waver in her voice.

Olaf's hand caught around her wrist. "We should get out of here. I'll take you to the heartgate, Anna."

They were running now, the conch shell clamped carefully in her hands. Ducking under the purple and gold striped tent, emerging in another ice-crystal corridor. Something she hadn't noticed before: this didn't look like anywhere in Elsa's ice palace.

In fact, it rather resembled the east wing of Arendelle Castle.

By the stairs to the servants quarters, they stopped for breath. The rumbling had stopped, and Elsie said, "We'll be safe here, for a little while."

Sucking in deep breaths, one hand pushed against her thighs, Anna thought that she hadn't got this much exercise since she last climbed a mountain for Elsa. What _was_ it with her sister and rigorous physical exercise?

"Okay, so it's _alegbra lessons when I was seven_ , right?" said a gruff voice. She pushed herself up straight to see two little creatures like the one she'd met at the ticket booth rounding the corner, wheeling along a stepladder that ran on a runner against the wall.

"Oh yeah, who needs those anymore? Chuck 'em," said the other little snowgie, flicking through the pages on his clipboard.

His colleague bounced up the stepladder and pulled out the brass name plaque above the door, tossing it into a growing pile in the sack at his feet.

"Hey Flurry! Hey William! How's it going?" Olaf skipped up to the snowgies, who paused at his excitable approach.

"Oh, hey, Olaf. S'alright. Queen's got us working some serious overtime, though."

This must be what Olaf was telling her about earlier. Memory renovations. _Well, to be fair what use is algebra to anybody?_

The two little snow creatures were a quick and efficient team. In no time at all they were pushing the ladder down to the next door, Flurry enquiring, " _The night at the masque ball_?"

"Get rid of it," said William, flipping through his clipboard. Flurry hopped up the ladder, and just as carelessly as he'd done with the alegbra lessons, he chucked the memory of that night into the sack.

Anna marched up to the snow servants. "What on earth do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

"Memory renovation," said Flurry, without interest. "Hey, William, what are we replacing it with?"

"Hm… a quiet family dinner with Ma and Pop, apparently. Here," he threw him the new plaque and Flurry slid it in.

_With Ma and Pop…? But that doesn't make any sense. That was only a month ago._

"What are you doing to do with the old one? And all of those?" Anna said, stabbing a finger at the bag.

"Oh, they're all slated for the incinerator," William said.

"How come you've doing so many, William?" Olaf asked.

"Worlds-a-changing and we've got to change with it. Gotta take out all of these sad memories and all that stuff from the past month's gotta go, too."

"But you can't take those!" Anna exclaimed. "If you do that, then…" _Then all that stuff that happened there will be gone. The good and the bad._ All the evenings they spent together. All the things they'd shared.

"I don't give the orders, sweetie. Got a problem? Go see the Queen," Gary said, as they dragged the ladder. Replaced the plaque that read, _my conversation with my sister in the maze_ , replacing it with, _chess with Dad._

He chucked the plaque into the pile like it was trash.

"The fool," muttered Elsie from the conch.

 _No! I won't let you take even one of Elsa's memories!_ Anna snatched up the sack, throwing it to a wide-eyed Olaf so she could carry Elsie safely.

"Whoah! What are you doing, Anna?" Olaf exclaimed.

"Come on!" she said.

"Hey, give those back! Those are the property of her Majesty Queen Elsa!" Gary said, but by then they were running, Anna dragging Olaf behind her as a shrill whistle sounded, and Flurry yelled, "Backup! We need backup!"

They were running down the corridor now, out onto the landing as a cascade of snowgies exploded from a door behind them, blowing whistles and shouting to cease, halt, desist. Anna didn't stop, dragging Olaf who lagged behind her like a heavy cannonball, shouting, "Hurry up! Hurry up! Hurry up!" The snowgies were like an avalanche, tumbling down the corridors now, a white, terrifying, growing mass.

"Stop!", "Come back!", "In the name of Her Majesty, desist immediately!"

"A—Anna, a-are you sure this is a good idea?" Olaf gasped.

"Come _on_ ," she said.

They were at the grand staircase, hurtling up the stairs, a stitch burning through her, the back of her calves screaming. Down another corridor, and another, and—

Only to find a barricade erected, manned by two dozen snowgies, barring the way. "This is your last chance. Return Her Majesty's memories immediately!"

"This way— this way," said Olaf, and with no other choice they tumbled through the door to their left, chased by the pervading, ringing shrill whistle.

—Out into the bright, startling light of Arendelle Castle's courtyard, where Anna felt a cold shock impact against her face. Stunned, she brushed off the remnants of the snowball. Her hands, she noticed, were rather smaller and more chubby than she remembered.

A merry gurgle of a laugh. "Come on, Anna! You have to do better than that!" Elsa emerged from behind the bench, mouth split open in a grin, bouncing another snowball in her hand.

The words were out of her mouth before she realised she was saying them: "Nuh-uh! Gonna come get you, Elsie!"

Then she was compacting cold snow in her childish hands, and they were laughing, shouting together, flinging snow and running, snow flying everywhere. Until Olaf's hand clasped her own. She was small enough now that their eyes were level.

"Come on, Anna. You can't just play in Elsa's memories all day. We have to find the heartdoor," he reminded her.

"…Kay," she huffed in acquiescence. "Buh-bye, Elsie!"

Elsa waved, dress powdered white with snow. "Bye, Anna! Let's play later." She threw one more snowball for good measure. Olaf pulled Anna away before they could recommence their snowball fight, out through another door.

The shrill whistle was behind them again and they were running once more, Anna racing as fast as she could on her short little legs, clutching the conch to her chest, breathing hard and shrieking with the excitement and terror of the chase. They tumbled into memory into memory into memory. Past the table in the dining room laden down with treats for Elsa's sixth birthday, tumbling head-first through a door down the grassy hill with Elsa, cartwheeling, laughing, falling into—

Darkness.

The curtains were drawn, sunshine escaping in a thin golden band drawn down the gloom of Elsa's bedroom.

A soft hiccough of a sob.

Elsa's nine-year old eyes, icy teardrops clinging to matted eyelashes, looking up in confusion. Legs pulled up to her chest, she hunched with her back pressed up against the door. Ice streaked up in a glittering cobweb around her.

"A-Anna?" she hiccoughed. "H-how did you get in here?"

Feeling welled up in Anna's chest, the motion difficult to pronounce with a six-year-old's tongue.

"It'll be okay, Elsa," she said, reaching out to take Elsa's hand.

Elsa looked at their joined hands- their threaded fingers- in confusion. And quite abruptly, pulled her hand away, cradling it to her chest. "Anna— don't. I— I'll hurt you. You're not even supposed to be here. I'm not allowed to see you anymore." Her voice broke with emotion like a flint snapping in half, and she covered her eyes with her hands.

It hurt. It all hurt so much. Even after all this time.

Grief and anger was a tight stopper in her throat, and Anna had to force the words. "I promise," she said, tight and nasal.

"A-Anna…?"

"It'll all be okay one day, Elsa. I promise. We'll see one another again. It's not your fault, so don't cry. It'll be alright."

Elsa's wide, uncomprehending eyes, blinking away diamond tears. "Anna, I don't…"

"It'll all be okay, so—- just wait for me, Elsa," she said, almost shouted, as she tore herself away from the scene, reaching blindly for the exit, eyes burning with tears. She stumbled out, into the brightness of the unnatural ice corridor.

And stared up at the giant door that towered overhead.

It was massive, towering so tall that craning her neck with a crick, Anna still couldn't see the top of it. Embossed, of course, with Elsa's signature snowflake.

"Anna, wait up—" Olaf panted, slowing to a trot beside her. "I think we lost 'em. Are you… are you okay, Anna?"

Anna grabbed Olaf, hugging him so tightly enough to compact the snow-stuff he was made of. "It's just not fair," she said, voice muffled into his shoulder.

"We should get going, before they catch up with us," Elsie said from the conch. She sounded deeply weary.

"It's no good, anyway," Anna sniffed. "There's no way we can get past this. We don't have the key. Elsa's not going to let us in. She never has."

"Anna, check your pockets," Elsie said.

Pulling away from the snowman, wiping her nose on her sleeve, Anna dug in her apron pocket. With her fingers— adult fingers, she only noticed now, the transfiguration of the memories losing their magic on her— she dug out something hard and metal.

Anna opened her palm to find a small, brass key, marked with a snowflake, as though it'd been in her pocket all along.

* * *

**To be continued.**

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The inspiration for this chapter, as many of my fellow Disney buffs might have picked up- was Inside Out. Ever since I introduced Ada's powers I planned to finish the story with a trip to Elsa's heart, but the movie was incredibly useful in figuring out just how I was going to do it (if you haven't seen the movie yet, do it!)
> 
> Thanks again to Nic for beta-reading for me, and to my readers for all your kind comments.


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